“This is the hardest of all: to close the open hand out of love, and keep modest as a giver.”
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There are various eyes. Even the Sphinx has eyes: and as a result there are various truths, and as a result there is no truth.
One may sometimes tell a lie, but the grimace that accompanies it tells the truth.
That which does not kill us makes us stronger.
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.'