"Of the spirit of women. - The spiritual power of a woman is best demonstrated by her sacrificing her own spirit to that of a man out of love of him an...
Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche ~
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.
More Friedrich Nietzsche quotes
"The beast lives unhistorically; for it 'goes into' the present, like a number, without leaving any curious remainder.
"They are now informing me that not only are they better than the powerful, the masters of the world whose spittle they have to lick (not from fear, no...
"We are unknown to ourselves, we men of knowledge--and with good reason. We have never sought ourselves--how could it happen that we should ever find o...
"Generally speaking, punishment makes men hard and cold; it concentrates; it sharpens the feeling of alienation; it strengthens the power of resistance
"Every kind of contempt for sex, every impurification of it by means of the concept "impure", is the crime par excellence against life--is the real sin...
"The conviction reigns that it is only through the sacrifices and accomplishments of the ancestors that the tribe exists--and that one has to pay them ...
"But I need solitude--which is to say, recovery, return to myself, the breath of a free, light, playful air.
"What really arouses indignation against suffering is not suffering as such but the senselessness of suffering...
"This workshop where ideals are manufactured--it seems to me it stinks of so many lies
"And as long as you are in any way ashamed before yourself, you do not yet belong with us.
"One not only wants to be understood when one writes, but also quite as certainly not to be understood. It is by no means an objection to a book when s...
"What is familiar is what we are used to; and what we are used to is most difficult to 'Know' - that is, to see as a problem; that is, to see as strang...
"Our faith in others betrays that we would rather have faith in ourselves. Our longing for a friend is our betrayer. And often with our love we want me...
"I ascended, I ascended, I dreamt, I thought,—but everything oppressed me. A sick one did I resemble, whom bad torture wearieth, and a worse dream reaw...