Whoever Does Not Have A

A Belief, However Necessary It May Be For The Preservation Of A Species, Has Nothing To Do With Truth. The Falseness Of A Judgment Is Not For Us Necessarily An Objection To A Judgment. The Question Is To What Extent It Is Life-promoting, Life-preserving, Species Preserving, Perhaps Even Species Cultivating. To Recognize Untruth As A Condition Of Life--that Certainly Means Resisting Accustomed Value Feelings In A Dangerous Way; And A Philosophy That Risks This Would By That Token Alone Place Itself Beyond Good And Evil.

The World Is A Work Of Art That Gives Birth To Itself.

A Little Health Now And Again Is The Ailing Person's Best Remedy.

He Who Is Usually Self-sufficient Becomes Exceptionally Vain And Keenly Alive To Fame And Praise When He Is Physically Ill. The More He Loses Himself The More He Has To Endeavor To Regain His Position By Means Of The Opinion Of Others.

We Find Nothing Easier Than Being Wise, Patient, Superior. We Drip With The Oil Of Forbearance And Sympathy, We Are Absurdly Just, We Forgive Everything. For That Very Reason We Ought To Discipline Ourselves A Little; For That Very Reason We Ought To Cultivate A Little Emotion, A Little Emotional Vice, From Time To Time. It May Be Hard For Us; And Among Ourselves We May Perhaps Laugh At The Appearance We Thus Present. But What Of That! We No Longer Have Any Other Mode Of Self-overcoming Available To Us: This Is Our Asceticism, Our Penance.