Reason Is The Cause Of Our Falsification

A Man Far Oftener Appears To Have A Decided Character From Persistently Following His Temperament Than From Persistently Following His Principles.

The Man Who Meets With A Failure Attributes This Failure Rather To The Ill Will Of Another Than To Fate.

To Live As I Incline, Or Not To Live At All: So Do I Wish; So Wisheth Also The Holiest. But Alas! How Have I Still - Inclination? Have I-still A Goal? A Haven Towards Which My Sail Is Set?a Good Wind? Ah, He Only Who Knoweth Whither He Saileth, Knoweth What Wind Is Good, And A Fair Wind For Him.what Still Remaineth To Me? A Heart Weary And Flippant; And Unstable Will; Fluttering Wings; A Broken Backbone.this Seeking For My Home: O Zarathustra, Dost Thou Know That This Seeking Hath Been My Home-sickening; It Eateth Me Up.

In Russia There Is An Emigration Of Intelligence: émigrés Cross The Frontier In Order To Read And To Write Good Books. But In Doing So They Contribute To Making Their Fatherland, Abandoned By Spirit, Into The Gaping Jaws Of Asia That Would Like To Swallow Our Little Europe.

The So Called Unconscious Inferences Can Be Traced Back To The All-preserving Memory, Which Presents Us With Parallel Experiences And Hence Already Knows The Consequences Of An Action. It Is Not Anticipation Of The Effects; Rather, It Is The Feeling: Identical Causes, Identical Effects . . .