Sleep Is No Mean Art.

Faced With A World Of "modern Ideas" Which Would Like To Banish Everyone Into A Corner And A "specialty," A Philosopher, If There Could Be A Philosopher These Days, Would Be Compelled To Establish The Greatness Of Mankind, The Idea Of "greatness," On The Basis Of His Own Particular Extensive Range And Multiplicity, His Own Totality In The Midst Of Diversity.

What Is It That Endowed Things With Meaning, Value, Significance? The Creating Heart, Which Desired, And, Out Of Its Desire, Created. It Created Joy And Woe. It Wanted To Satiate Itself With Woe. We Must Take All The Suffering That Has Been Endured By Men And Animals Upon Ourselves And Affirm It, And Possess A Goal In Which It Acquires Reason.

There Are Few Pains So Grievous As To Have Seen, Divined, Or Experienced How An Exceptional Man Has Missed His Way And Deteriorated

Lift Up Your Hearts, My Brothers, High, Higher! And Don't Forget About Your Legs Either! Lift Up Your Legs As Well, You Good Dancers, And Better Yet--stand Also On Your Heads!

Is Life Not A Thousand Times Too Short For Us To Bore Ourselves?