The Only Excuse For God Is That

Not Joy Is The Mother Of Dissipation, But Joylessness.

One Is Most Dishonest To One's God: He Is Not Allowed To Sin.

Anything Which Is A Living And Not A Dying Body... Will Have To Be An Incarnate Will To Power, It Will Strive To Grow, Spread, Seize, Become Predominant - Not From Any Morality Or Immorality But Because It Is Living And Because Life Simply Is Will To Power... 'exploitation'... Belongs To The Essence Of What Lives, As A Basic Organic Function; It Is A Consequence Of The Will To Power, Which Is After All The Will To Life.

We Would Not Let Ourselves Be Burned To Death For Our Opinions: We Are Not Sure Enough Of Them For That.

What Then Is Truth? A Movable Host Of Metaphors, Metonymies, And Anthropomorphisms: In Short, A Sum Of Human Relations Which Have Been Poetically And Rhetorically Intensified, Transferred, And Embellished, And Which, After Long Usage, Seem To A People To Be Fixed, Canonical, And Binding. Truths Are Illusions Which We Have Forgotten Are Illusions — They Are Metaphors That Have Become Worn Out And Have Been Drained Of Sensuous Force.