Love Forgives The Lover Even His Lust.

From Whatever You Wish To Know And Measure You Must Take Your Leave, At Least For A Time. Only When You Have Left The Town Can Yousee How High Its Towers Rise Above The Houses.

Oh, How Much Is Today Hidden By Science! Oh, How Much It Is Expected To Hide!

The Hour-hand Of Life.

Pain Makes Hens And Poets Cackle.

From The Sun Did I Learn This, When It Goeth Down, The Exuberant One: Gold Doth It Then Pour Into The Sea, Out Of Inexhaustible Riches, -so That The Poorest Fisherman Roweth Even With Golden Oars! For This Did I Once See, And Did Not Tire Of Weeping In Beholding It. - Like The Sun Will Also Zarathustra Go Down: Now Sitteth He Here And Waiteth, Old Broken Tables Around Him, And Also New Tables Half-written.