The Snake Which Cannot Cast

One Must Shed The Bad Taste Of Wanting To Agree With Many. "good" Is No Longer Good When One's Neighbor Mouths It. And How Should There Be A "common Good"! The Term Contradicts Itself: Whatever Can Be Common Always Has Little Value. In The End It Must Be As It Is And Always Has Been: Great Things Remain For The Great, Abysses For The Profound, Nuances And Shudders For The Refined, And, In Brief, All That Is Rare For The Rare.

The Drive Toward The Formation Of Metaphors Is The Fundamental Human Drive, Which One Cannot For A Single Instant Dispense With In Thought , For One Would Thereby Dispense With Man Himself.

I Conjure You, My Brethren, To Remain Faithful To Earth, And Do Not Believe Those Who Speak Unto You Of Super Terrestrial Hopes! Poisoners They Are, Whether They Know It Or Not.

I Love Him Who Liveth In Order To Know, And Seeketh To Know In Order That The Superman May Hereafter Live. Thus Seeketh He His Own Down-going.

I Still Live, I Still Think: I Still Have To Live, For I Still Have To Think.