Great intellects are skeptical.

In the end things must be as they are and have always been - the great things remain for the great, the abysses for the profound, the delicacies and thrills for the refined, and, to sum up shortly, everything rare for the rare.

All great men are play actors of their own ideal.

Man is a rope, tied between beast and overman - a rope over an abyss. What is great in man is that he is a bridge and not an end: what can be loved in man is that he is an overture and a going under.

All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking.

It is not the strength, but the duration, of great sentiments that makes great men.