Is Not Wounded Vanity The Mother Of

Active, Successful Natures Act, Not According To The Maxim, "know Thyself," But As If Prompted By The Commandment: Will A Self, And So Become A Self.

Man Is At His Furthest Remove From The Animal As A Child, His Intellect Most Human. With His Fifteenth Year And Puberty He Comes Astep Closer To The Animal; With The Sense Of Possessions Of His Thirties (the Median Line Between Laziness And Greediness), Still Another Step. In His Sixtieth Year Of Life He Frequently Loses His Modesty As Well, Then The Septuagenarian Steps Up To Us As A Completely Unmasked Beast: One Need Only Look At The Eyes And The Teeth.

Truths Are Illusions Of Which One Has Forgotten That They Are Illusions, Metaphors That Have Become Worn-out And Deprived Of Their Sensuous Force, Coins That Have Lost Their Imprint And Are Now No Longer Seen As Coins But As Metal.

But Thought Is One Thing, The Deed Is Another, And The Image Of The Deed Still Another: The Wheel Of Causality Does Not Roll Between Them.

With The Unknown, One Is Confronted With Danger, Discomfort, And Care; The First Instinct Is To Abolish These Painful States. First Principle: Any Explanation Is Better Than None. . . . The Causal Instinct Is Thus Conditional Upon, And Excited By, The Feeling Of Fear. The "why?" Shall, If At All Possible, Not Give The Cause For Its Own Sake So Much As For A Particular Kind Of Cause -- A Cause That Is Comforting, Liberating, And Relieving.