Call Me Whatever You Like; I Am

You Must Be Born For Your Physician, Otherwise You Are Bound To Perish Because Of Your Physician.

The Child Is Innocence And Forgetting, A New Beginning, A Game, A Wheel Rolling On Its Own, A Prime Movement, A Sacred Yes.

The Great Man... Is Colder, Harder, Less Hesitating, And Without Fear Of 'opinion'; He Lacks The Virtues That Accompany Respect And 'respectability,' And Altogether Everything That Is The 'virtue Of The Herd.' If He Cannot Lead, He Goes Alone... He Knows He Is Incommunicable: He Finds It Tasteless To Be Familiar... When Not Speaking To Himself, He Wears A Mask. There Is A Solitude Within Him That Is Inaccessible To Praise Or Blame.

We Believe That We Know Something About The Things Themselves When We Speak Of Trees, Colors, Snow, And Flowers; And Yet We Possess Nothing But Metaphors For Things - Metaphors Which Correspond In No Way To The Original Entities.

Sensuality Often Hastens The "growth Of Love" So Much That The Roots Remain Weak And Are Easily Torn Up.