The Snake Which Cannot Cast Its Skin

To Explore The Whole Sphere Of The Modern Soul, To Have Sat In Every Nook- My Ambition, My Torture, And My Happiness

It Is Nobler To Declare Oneself Wrong Than To Insist On Being Right --especially When One Is Right.

To Recognize Untruth As A Condition Of Life--that Certainly Means Resisting Accustomed Value Feelings In A Dangerous Way; And A Philosophy That Risks This Would By That Token Alone Place Itself Beyond Good And Evil.

Truth Is A Mobile Army Of Metaphors, Metonyms, Anthropomorphisms, In Short A Sum Of Human Relations Which Have Been Subjected To Poetic And Rhetorical Intensification, Translation And Decoration […]; Truths Are Illusions Of Which We Have Forgotten That They Are Illusions, Metaphors Which Have Become Worn By Frequent Use And Have Lost All Sensuous Vigour […]. Yet We Still Do Not Know Where The Drive To Truth Comes From, For So Far We Have Only Heard About The Obligation To Be Truthful Which Society Imposes In Order To Exist" From, "on Truth And Lying In A Non-moral Sense".

Someone Said: "i Have Been Prejudiced Against Myself From My Earliest Childhood: Hence I Find Some Truth In All Blame And Some Stupidity In All Praise. I Generally Estimate Praise Too Poorly And Blame Too Highly.