We Possess Art Lest We Perish Of

How Much Truth Does A Spirit Endure, How Much Truth Does It Dare?

Could Truth Perhaps Be A Woman Who Has Reasons For Not Permitting Her Reasons To Be Seen? Could Her Name Perhaps Be--to Speak Greek--baubo?... Oh, Those Greeks! They Understood How To Live: To Do That It Is Necessary To Stop Bravely At The Surface, The Fold, The Skin, To Adore The Appearance, To Believe In Forms, In Tones, In Words, In The Whole Olympus Of Appearance! Those Greeks Were Superficial--out Of Profundity!

Ah, Women. They Make The Highs Higher And The Lows More Frequent.

Now We Will No Longer Concede So Easily That Anyone Has The Truth; The Rigorous Methods Of Inquiry Have Spread Sufficient Distrust And Caution, So That We Experience Every Man Who Represents Opinions Violently In Word And Deed As Any Enemy Of Our Present Culture, Or At Least As A Backward Person. And In Fact, The Fervor About Having The Truth Counts Very Little Today In Relation To That Other Fervor, More Gentle And Silent, To Be Sure, For Seeking The Truth, A Search That Does Not Tire Of Learning Afresh And Testing Anew.

What Is The Truth, But A Lie Agreed Upon.