God remains dead. And we have killed him. Yet his shadow still looms. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share Image
Animals know nothing of themselves, and they also know nothing of the world. — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
“Every select man strives instinctively for a citadel and a privacy, where he is FREE from the crowd, the many, the majority-- where he… — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
“It breaks my heart. Better than your words, your eye tells me all your peril. You are not yet free, you still search for… — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
“79. A soul which knows that it is loved, but does not itself love, betrays its sediment: its dregs come up.” — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
We deceive ourselves when giving respect to the person for whom we have surrendered ourselves, when we respectively expect them to be as we… — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
“The great periods of our life occur when we gain the courage to rechristen what is bad about us as what is best.” — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
“What is life? Life - that is: continually shedding something that wants to die. Life - that is: being cruel and inexorable against everything… — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
It is thus only this personal feeling of misery that we get rid of by acts of pity. — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
“Writers whose thoughts are expressed with clarity and precision are assumed by readers to be superficial. Where the meaning is obscured, then readers give… — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
“he does not wear a twitching, mobile, human face, but rather a mask, as it were, with its features in dignified equilibrium; he does… — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
The earth is like the breasts of a woman: useful as well as pleasing. — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
“Of all that is written I love only what a man has written in his own blood.” — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
No shepherd and one herd! Everybody wants the same, everybody is the same: whoever feels different goes voluntarily into a madhouse. — Friedrich Nietzsche Copy Share
