That Which Intoxicates, The Sensually

And This Do I Call Immaculate Perception Of All Things: To Want Nothing Else From Them, But To Be Allowed To Lie Before Them As A Mirror With A Hundred Facets.

However Modest One May Be In One's Demand For Intellectual Cleanliness, One Cannot Help Feeling, When Coming Into Contact With The New Testament, A Kind Of Inexpressible Discomfiture: For The Unchecked Impudence With Which The Least Qualified Want To Raise Their Voice On The Greatest Problems, And Even Claim To Be Judges Of Such Things, Surpasses All Measure. The Shameless Levity With Which The Most Intractable Problems (life, World, God, Purpose Of Life) Are Spoken Of, As If They Were Not Problems At All But Simply Things That These Little Bigots Knew!

God Remains Dead. And We Have Killed Him. Yet His Shadow Still Looms. How Shall We Comfort Ourselves, The Murderers Of All Murderers?

Foolish Is My Happiness, And Foolish Things Will It Speak: It Is Still Too Young—so Have Patience With It!

The Public Easily Confuses Him Who Fishes In Troubled Waters With Him Who Draws Up Water From The Depths.