88. One begins to distrust very clever persons when they become embarrassed.
89. Dreadful experiences raise the question whether he who experiences them is not something dreadful also.
90. Heavy, melancholy men turn lighter, and come temporarily to their surface, precisely by that which makes others heavy—by hatred and love.
91. So cold, so icy, that one burns one's finger at the touch of him! Every hand that lays hold of him shrinks back!—And for that very reason many think him red-hot.
92. Who has not, at one time or another—sacrificed himself for the sake of his good name?
93. In affability there is no hatred of men, but precisely on that account a great deal too much contempt of men.
94. The maturity of man—that means, to have reacquired the seriousness that one had as a child at play.
95. To be ashamed of one's immorality is a step on the ladder at the end of which one is ashamed also of one's morality.
96. One should part from life as Ulysses parted from Nausicaa—blessing it rather than in love with it.
97. What? A great man? I always see merely the play-actor of his own ideal.