The Man Who Does Not Wish To

On All The Walls, Wherever Walls Exist, I Will Inscribe This Eternal Indictment Of Christianity--i Have Letters To Make Even Blindmen See.... I Call Christianity The Single Great Curse, The Single Great Innermost Depravity, The Single Great Instinct Of Revenge, For Which No Means Is Poisonous, Secretive, Subterranean, Small Enough--i Call It Mankind's Single Immortal Blemish.... And We Reckon Time From The Dies Nefastus With Which This Calamity Arose--following Christianity's First Day!--why Not Following Its Last Day, Instead?--following Today?--transvaluation Of All Values!

Art Is Essentially The Affirmation, The Blessing, And The Deification Of Existence.

Improvements Are Invented Only By Those Who Can Feel That Something Is Not Good.

Art Depends Upon The Inexactitude Of Sight.

I Do Not Know What The Spirit Of A Philosopher Could More Wish To Be Than A Good Dancer. For The Dance Is His Ideal, Also His Fine Art, Finally Also The Only Kind Of Piety He Knows, His 'divine Service.'