Christianity remains to this day the greatest misfortune of humanity.
Friedrich NietzscheRead
Well-meaning, helpful, good-natured attitudes of mind have not come to be honored on account of their usefulness, but because they are states of richer souls that are capable of bestowing and have their value in the feeling of the plenitude of life.
Interpretation
The value of positive attitudes stems not just from their utility but from the richness of character that they reflect.
Friedrich Nietzsche suggests that the qualities of kindness and helpfulness are esteemed not merely for their practical benefits, but rather as manifestations of deeper, richer souls. These attitudes signify a fullness of life and a generosity of spirit that enrich human interactions and experiences.
In practice
In a motivational speech about personal growth and kindness.
Christianity remains to this day the greatest misfortune of humanity.
That which does not kill us makes us stronger.
Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.
Watch them clamber, these swift monkeys! They clamber over one another and thus drag one another into the mud and the depth. They all want to get to the throne: that is their madness — as if happiness sat on the throne. Often, mud sits on the throne — and often the throne also on mud. Mad they all appear to me, clambering monkeys and overardent. Foul smells their idol, the cold monster: foul, they smell to me altogether, these idolators.
Reason is the cause of our falsification of the evidence of the senses. In so far as the senses show becoming, passing away, change, they do not lie.
The anarchist and the Christian have a common origin.
In a very real sense, we are shipwrecked passengers on a doomed planet. Yet, even in a shipwreck, human decencies and human values do not necessarily vanish, and we must make the most of them. We shall go down, but let it be in a manner to which we may look forward as worthy of our dignity.
The words that come out of our mouths do not vanish but are perpetually stored in infinite space, and they will come back to us in due time.
Dear God, help me. Do not forget me on this tiny cinder lost in a galaxy that is lost–a heart no bigger than a speck of dust beating, beating against death, against meaninglessness, against guilt, against sorrow.
We're all puppets, Laurie. I'm just a puppet who can see the strings.
Unless you come out of your mind and become a no-mind you will not know what life is all about, you will live in vain. You will not have your honeymoon, it is impossible. You will not know the sweetness that existence is full of and the ecstasy.
ORPHAN, n. A living person whom death has deprived of the power of filial ingratitude . . .
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