“My conception of freedom. — The value of a thing sometimes does not lie in that which one attains by it, but in what one pays for it — what it costs us. I give an example. Liberal institutions cease to be liberal as soon as they are attained: later on, there are no worse and no more thorough injurers of freedom than liberal institutions. One knows, indeed, what their ways bring: they undermine the will to power; they level mountain and valley, and call that morality; they make men small, cowardly, and hedonistic [genüsslich] — every time it is the herd animal that triumphs with them. Liberalism: in other words, herd-animalization.”
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“Combien de choses nous servoyent hier d’articles de foy, qui nous sont fables aujourd’huy?
How many things served us yesterday for articles of faith, which today are fables for us?”
― The Complete Essays
How many things served us yesterday for articles of faith, which today are fables for us?”
― The Complete Essays
“That mountain there! That cloud there! What is 'real' about those? Try taking away the phantasm and the entire human
contribution, you sober realists! Yes, if only you could do that! If you could forget your heritage, your past, your training – your entire humanity and animality! For us there is no 'reality' – nor for you either, you sober ones.”
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contribution, you sober realists! Yes, if only you could do that! If you could forget your heritage, your past, your training – your entire humanity and animality! For us there is no 'reality' – nor for you either, you sober ones.”
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“What then is truth? A mobile army of metaphors, metonyms, and anthropomorphisms—in short, a sum of human relations which have been enhanced, transposed, and embellished poetically and rhetorically, and which after long use seem firm, canonical, and obligatory to a people: truths are illusions about which one has forgotten that this is what they are; metaphors which are worn out and without sensuous power; coins which have lost their pictures and now matter only as metal, no longer as coins.”
― On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense
― On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense
“Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.”
― The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.”
― The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Anton’s 2025 Year in Books
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