As An Artist One Has No Home

A Joke Is An Epigram On The Death Of A Feeling.

Our Shortcomings Are The Eyes With Which We See The Ideal.

Where There Is Happiness, There Is Found Pleasure In Nonsense. The Transformation Of Experience Into Its Opposite, Of The Suitable Into The Unsuitable, The Obligatory Into The Optional (but In Such A Manner That This Process Produces No Injury And Is Only Imagined In Jest), Is A Pleasure.

A Certain Sense Of Cruelty Towards Oneself And Others Is Christian; Hatred Of Those Who Think Differently; The Will To Persecute. Mortal Hostility Against The Masters Of The Earth, Against The 'noble', That Is Also Christian; Hatred Of Mind, Of Pride, Courage, Freedom, Libertinage Of Mind, Is Christian; Hatred Of The Senses, Of Joy In General, Is Christian.

To Explore The Whole Sphere Of The Modern Soul, To Have Sat In Every Nook- My Ambition, My Torture, And My Happiness