The Rose is without an explanation; She blooms, because She blooms.
You can t, in sound morals, condemn a man for taking care of his own integrity. It is his clear duty. And least of all can you condemn an artist pursuing, however humbly and imperfectly, a creative aim. In that interior world where his thought and his emotions go seeking for the experience of imagined adventures, there are no policemen, no law, no pressure of circumstance or dread of opinion to keep him within bounds. Who then is going to say Nay to his temptations if not his conscience?
A mighty monarch in the days of oldMade offer of high honour, wealth and gold,To one who should produce in form conciseA motto for his guidance, terse yet wise---A precept, soothing in his hours forlorn,Yet one that in his prosperous days would warn.Many the maxims sent the king, men say.The one he chose: This too shall pass away.Oh, jewel sentence from the mine of truth!What riches it contains for age or youth.No stately epic, measured and sublime,So comforts, or so counsels, for all timeAs these few words. Go write them on your heartAnd make them of your daily life a part.Has some misfortune fallen to your lot?This too will pass away--absorb the thought.And wait; your waiting will not be in vain,Time gilds with gold the iron links of pain.The dark to-day leads into light to-morrow;There is no endless joy, no endless sorrow.Are you upon earth's heights? No cloud in view?Go read your motto once again: This tooShall pass away; fame, glory, place and power,They are but little baubles of the hour,Flung by the ruthless years down in the dust.Take warning and be worthy of God's trust.Use well your prowess while it lasts; leave bloom,Not blight, to mark your footprints to the tomb.The truest greatness lies in being kind,The truest wisdom in a happy mind.He who desponds, his Maker's judgment mocks;The gloomy Christian is a paradox.Only the sunny soul respects its God.Since life is short we need to make it broad;Since life is brief we need to make it bright.Then keep the old king's motto well in sight,And let its meaning permeate each day.Whatever comes, This too shall pass away.
When I face an issue of great import that cleaves both constituents and colleagues, I always take the same approach. I engage in deep deliberation and quiet contemplation. I wait to the last available minute and then I always vote with the losers. Because, my friend, the winners never remember and the losers never forget.
A belief, however necessary it may be for the preservation of a species, has nothing to do with truth. The falseness of a judgment is not for us necessarily an objection to a judgment. The question is to what extent it is life-promoting, life-preserving, species preserving, perhaps even species cultivating. To recognize untruth as a condition of life--that certainly means resisting accustomed value feelings in a dangerous way; and a philosophy that risks this would by that token alone place itself beyond good and evil.
What is good? All that enhances the feeling of power, the Will to Power, and the power itself in man. What is bad? All that proceeds from weakness. What is happiness? The feeling that power is increasing--that resistance has been overcome. Not contentment, but more power; not peace at any price, but war; not virtue, but competence. The first principle of our humanism: The weak and the failures shall perish. They ought even to be helped to perish.
Science is the search for truth - it is not a game in which one tries to beat his opponent, to do harm to others. We need to have the spirit of science in international affairs, to make the conduct of international affairs the effort to find t he right solution, the just solution of international problems, not the effort by each nation to get the better of other nations, to do harm to them when it is possible.
Our life is like a land journey: too even and easy and dull over long distances across the plains, too hard and painful up the steep grades; but on the summits of the mountain, you have a magnificent view - and feel exalted - and your eyes are full of happy tears - and you want to sing - and you wish you had wings! And then - you can't stay there, but you must continue your journey - you begin climbing down the other side, so busy with your footholds that your summit experience is forgotten.
An absolute can only be given in an intuition, while all the rest has to do with analysis. We call intuition here the sympathy by which one is transported into the interior of an object in order to coincide with what there is unique andconsequently inexpressible in it. Analysis, on the contrary, is the operation which reduces the object to elements already known.
Things are not all so comprehensible and expressible as one would mostly have us believe; most events are inexpressible, taking place in a realm which no word has ever entered, and more inexpressible than all else are works of art, mysterious existences, the life of which, while ours passes away, endures.
Civilization is a stream with banks. The stream is sometimes filled with blood from people killing, stealing, shouting and doing things historians usually record, while on the banks, unnoticed, people build homes, make love, raise children, sing songs, write poetry.The story of civilization is the story of what happened on the banks. Historians are pessimists because they ignore the banks for the river.
Envy is the only name she could find for the monstrous thing she faced, but it was much worse than envy: it was the profound hatred of life, of success and of all human values, felt by a certain kind of mediocrity...the kind who feels pleasure on hearing about a stranger's misfortune. It was hatred of the good for being the good...hatred of ability, of beauty, of honesty, of earnestness, of achievement and, above all, of human joy.
Never say I love youIf you really don't care.Never talk about feelingsIf they aren't really there.Never hold my handIf you are going to break my heart.Never say you're going toIf you don't really plan to start.Never look into my eyesIf all you do is lie.Never say helloIf what you really mean is goodbye.If you really mean foreverThen say you will try.Never say foreverCause forever makes me cry.
My pet aphorism suffer fools gladly should be the guide of the Assistant Secretary, who, during the fortnight of his activity, has more little vanities and rivalries to smooth over and conciliate than other people meet with in a lifetime. Now you do not suffer fools gladly; on the contrary, you gladly make fools suffer. I do not say you are wrong; No tu quoque'; but that is where the danger of the explosion lies'; not in regard to the larger business of the Association.
My nonviolence does not admit of running away from danger and leaving dear ones unprotected. Between violence and cowardly flight, I can only prefer violence to cowardice. I can no more preach nonviolence to a coward than I can tempt a blind man to enjoy healthy scenes.
It was at a particular moment in the history of my own rages that I saw the Western world conditioned by the images of Marx, Darwin and Freud; and Marx, Darwin and Freud are the three most crashing bores of the Western world. The simplistic popularization of their ideas has thrust our world into a mental straitjacket from which we can only escape by the most anarchic violence.