God Is Dead, God Remains Dead, And

Objection, Evasion, Joyous Distrust, And Love Of Irony Are Signs Of Health; Everything Absolute Belongs To Pathology.

Everyone Wants To Be Foremost In This Future-and Yet Death And The Stillness Of Death Are The Only Things Certain And Common To All In This Future! How Strange That This Sole Thing That Is Certain And Common To All, Exercises Almost No Influence On Men, And That They Are The Furthest From Regarding Themselves As The Brotherhood Of Death! It Makes Me Happy To See That Men Do Not Want To Think At All Of The Idea Of Death!

The Advocates Of A Criminal Are Seldom Artists Enough To Turn The Beautiful Terribleness Of The Deed To The Advantage Of The Doer.

How Lovely It Is That There Are Words And Sounds. Are Not Words And Sounds Rainbows And Illusive Bridges Between Things Which Are Eternally Apart?

Whenever The Truth Is Uncovered, The Artist Will Always Cling With Rapt Gaze To What Still Remains Covering Even After Such Uncovering; But The Theoretical Man Enjoys And Finds Satisfaction In The Discarded Covering And Finds The Highest Object Of His Pleasure In The Process Of An Ever Happy Uncovering That Succeeds Through His Own Efforts.