“The thought of suicide is a great consolation: by means of it one gets through many a dark night.”

Man is the cruelest animal.

There are no eternal facts, as there are no absolute truths.

All I need is a sheet of paper and something to write with, and then I can turn the world upside down.

My solitude doesn’t depend on the presence or absence of people; on the contrary, I hate who steals my solitude without, in exchange, offering me true company.

The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die.

Man is something that shall be overcome. Man is a rope, tied between beast and overman – a rope over an abyss.

Whenever I climb I am followed by a dog called Ego.

Love is a state in which a man sees things most decidedly as they are not.

The higher we soar the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly.

And once you are awake, you shall remain awake eternally.

All things are subject to interpretation. Whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power and not truth.

Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings — always darker, emptier and simpler.

Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed.

The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything.

Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.

A thought, even a possibility, can shatter and transform us.

A love of nature is a consolation against failure.

Next to the consolations of divine grace, it is the most sovereign balm to the miseries of life, both in him who is the object of it, and in him who exercises it.

The Bahá´í Faith is consolation for humanity.

Examining the world in order to find consolation is very much like looking carefully over the pages of a great book in order to find our own name . … Whether we find what we want or not, our preoccupation has hindered us from a true knowledge of the contents.

A world in which time is absolute is a world of consolation. For while the movements of people are unpredictable, the movement of time is predictable.

A world in which time is absolute is a world of consolation.

I write what I call ‘novels of consolation’ for people who are bright and sophisticated.

None better suited to the cure of our temporal ills than a friend to whom we may turn for consolation in time of trouble, and with whom we may share happiness in time of joy.