Men do not accept their prophets and slay them, but they love their martyrs and worship those whom they have tortured to death.
Man is fond of counting his troubles, but he does not count his joys. If he counted them up as he ought to, he would see that every lot has enough happiness provided for it.
Man is a mystery. One must solve it. If you spend your entire life trying to puzzle it out, then do not say that you have wasted your time. I occupy myself with this mystery, because I want to be a man.
It seems, in fact, as though the second half of a man’s life is usually made up of nothing, but the habits he has accumulated during the first half.
Deprived of meaningful work, men and women lose their reason for existence; they go stark, raving mad.