One Repays A Teacher Badly If One

Thoughts Are The Shadows Of Our Feelings - Always Darker, Emptier And Simpler.

The Various Languages Placed Side By Side Show That With Words It Is Never A Question Of Truth, Never A Question Of Adequate Expression; Otherwise, There Would Not Be So Many Languages. The 'thing In Itself' (which Is Precisely What The Pure Truth, Apart From Any Of Its Consequences, Would Be) Is Likewise Something Quite Incomprehensible To The Creator Of Language And Something Not In The Least Worth Striving For.

Nothing In Life Possesses Value Except The Degree Of Power--assuming That Life Itself Is The Will To Power.

The Sick Woman Especially: No One Surpasses Her In Refinements For Ruling, Oppressing, Tyrannising.

Only Great Pain Is, As The Teacher Of Great Suspicion, The Ultimate Liberator Of The Spirit...i Doubt Whether Such Pain Improves Us-but I Do Know It Deepens Us.