When Gods Die, They Always Die Many

When On A Sunday Morning We Hear The Old Bells Ring Out, We Ask Ourselves, "is It Possible! This Is Done On Account Of A Jew Crucified Two Thousand Years Ago Who Said He Was The Son Of God. The Proof Of Such An Assertion Is Wanting".

Not With Wrath Do We Kill, But With Laughter. Come, Let Us Kill The Spirit Of Gravity!

This Is The Fundamental Idea Of Culture, Insofar As It Sets But One Task For Each Of Us: To Further The Production Of The Philosopher, Of The Artist, And Of The Saint Within Us And Outside Us, And Thereby To Work At The Consummation Of Nature.

Both Classically- And Romantically-minded Spirits-inasmuch As These Two Species Always Exist-occupy Themselves With A Vision Of The Future: But The Former Do So Out Of A Strength Of Their Age, The Latter Out Of Its Weakness.

That Is The Most Extreme Form Of Nihilism: Nothingness (the "meaningless") Eternally!