Alas, human sympathy often relates itself inversely to suffering, which becomes harder in the long run, and sympathy becomes weary in the long run; the suffering increases while the sympathy diminishes…when […] sympathy is at an end, it sometimes is changed into a kind of bitterness against the sufferer.
What kind of miserable invention is this human language, which says one thing and means another?
He keeps a religious mood as a secret he cannot explain, while at the same time this secrets helps him poetically explain actuality.
And is it not the case that the older a person grows, the more and more of a swindle life proves to be…
My being was transparent, like the depths of the sea, like the self-satisfied silence of the night, like the soliloquizing stillness of midday. Every mood rested in my soul with melodic resonance.
He who will merely hope is cowardly; he who will merely recollect is voluptuous; he who wills repetition is a man, and the more emphatically he is able to realize it, the more profound a human being he is.
When the Eleatics denied motion, Diogenes, as everyone knows, came forward as an opponent. He literally did come forward, because he did not say a word but merely paced back and forth a few times, thereby assuming he had sufficiently refuted them.
— most of us are far more inclined to think of discovering evil than discovering the good.
The eye with which one sees reality must be changed continually.
The reason nature is so great is that it has forgotten it was chaos…