There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.
Insanity in individuals is something rare - but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule.
We love life, not because we are used to living but because we are used to loving.
A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything.
There is always some madness in love.
Watch them clamber, these swift monkeys! They clamber over one another and thus drag one another into the mud and the depth. They all want to get to the throne: that is their madness — as if happiness sat on the throne. Often, mud sits on the throne — and often the throne also on mud. Mad they all appear to me, clambering monkeys and overardent. Foul smells their idol, the cold monster: foul, they smell to me altogether, these idolators.
Madness is the result not of uncertainty but certainty.
Where is the lightning to lick you with its tongue? Where is the madness with which you should be cleansed? Behold, I show you the Superman. He is this lightning, he is this madness.
What can everyone do? Praise and blame. This is human virtue, this is human madness.
Madness is not a consequence of uncertainty but of certainty.
The universe without music would be madness.
Madness is the exception in individuals but the rule in groups.
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