“When one has not had a good father, one must create one.”
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I cannot believe in a God who wants to be praised all the time.
Our treasure lies in the beehive of our knowledge. We are perpetually on the way thither, being by nature winged insects and honey gatherers of the mind.
Nothing is beautiful, only man: on this piece of naivete rests all aesthetics, it is the first truth of aesthetics. Let us immediately add its second: nothing is ugly but degenerate man - the domain of aesthetic judgment is therewith defined.
There cannot be a God because if there were one, I could not believe that I was not He.