When The Gods Were More Manlike, Men

We Can Never Replace A Friend. When A Man Is Fortunate Enough To Have Several, He Finds They Are All Different. No One Has A Double In Friendship.

O Tender Yearning, Sweet Hoping! The Golden Time Of First Love! The Eye Sees The Open Heaven, The Heart Is Intoxicated With Bliss; O That The Beautiful Time Of Young Love Could Remain Green Forever.

This Is The Curse Of An Evil Deed, That It Incites And Must Bring Forth More Evil.

Everlastingly Chained To A Single Little Fragment Of The Whole, Man Himself Develops Into Nothing But A Fragment; Everlastingly In His Ear The Monotonous Sound Of The Wheel That He Turns, He Never Develops The Harmony Of His Being, And Instead Of Putting The Stamp Of Humanity Upon His Own Nature, He Becomes Nothing More Than The Imprint Of His Occupation Or Of His Specialized Knowledge.

O Jealousy! Thou Magnifier Of Trifles.