The view that honesty is something, and even a virtue, belongs, it is true, to those private opinions which are forbidden in this age of public opinions.
Every profound spirit needs a mask: even more, around every profound spirit a mask is continually growing.
Few are made for independence, it is the privilege of the strong.
One must first be firmly set in oneself, one must stand securely on one's own two legs otherwise one cannot love at all.
Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?