I Notice That Autumn Is More The

We Become Aware, However, That All Customs, Even The Hardest, Grow Pleasanter And Milder With Time, And That The Severest Way Of Life May Become A Habit And Therefore A Pleasure.

The Complete Irresponsibility Of Man For His Actions And His Nature Is The Bitterest Drop Which He Who Understands Must Swallow.

A Little Poison Now And Then: That Makes For Pleasant Dreams. And A Lot Of Poison At The End, For A Pleasant Death.

Assuming That Rapture Is Nature's Play With Man, The Dionysian Artist's Creative Activity Is The Play With Rapture.

The Earth Has Become Small, And On It Hops The Last Man, Who Makes Everything Small. His Race Can No More Be Exterminated Than The Flea Can Be. The Last Man Lives The Longest.