Christianity remains to this day the greatest misfortune of humanity.
Friedrich NietzscheRead
All truth is simple... is that not doubly a lie?
Interpretation
The quote plays with the nature of truth and the paradoxical nature of simplicity in understanding it.
Friedrich Nietzsche's quote suggests that while truth may seem straightforward and uncomplicated, there is a deeper complexity that can lead to contradiction. The notion that 'all truth is simple' can itself be seen as a misleading statement, highlighting the intricacies involved in discerning and articulating what is truly true.
In practice
This quote can be used in a philosophical debate about the nature of truth.
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 β as if happiness sat on the throne. Often, mud sits on the throne β 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.
I believe the universe wants to be noticed. I think the universe is inprobably biased toward the consciousness, that it rewards intelligence in part because the universe enjoys its elegance being observed. And who am I, living in the middle of history, to tell the universe that it-or my observation of it-is temporary?
Great men cultivate love...only little men cherish a spirit of hatred
The disappearance of a sense of responsibility is the most far-reaching consequence of submission to authority.
He'd always known that the world was an interesting place, and his imagination had peopled it with pirates and bandits and spies and astronauts and similar. But he'd also had a nagging suspicion that, when you seriously got right down to it, they were all just things in books and didn't properly exist anymore.
What passes for hip cynical transcendence of sentiment is really some kind of fear of being really human, since to be really human [...] is probably to be unavoidably sentimental and naΓ―ve and goo-prone and generally pathetic.
Birds know themselves not to be at the center of anything, but at the margins of everything. The end of the map. We only live where someone's horizon sweeps someone else's. We are only noticed on the edge of things; but on the edge of things, we notice much.
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