In music, the passions enjoy themselves.
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.... But Heraclitus will always be right in this, that being is an empty fiction. The ‘apparent' world is the only one: the ‘real' world has only been lyingly added...
He who is dissatisfied with himself is continually ready for revenge and we others will be his victims, if only in having always to endure his ugly sight. For the sight of the ugly makes one bad and gloomy.
And if something great fails you, does that mean you yourselves are—failures? And if you yourselves are failures, does that mean—the human being is a failure? But if the human being is a failure: well then! come now!
There is nowadays, throughout almost the whole of Europe, a sickly irritability and sensitiveness towards pain, and also a repulsive irrestrainableness in complaining, an effeminizing, which, with the aid of religion and philosophical nonsense, seeks to deck itself out as something superior—there is a regular cult of suffering.