The Genius (n.) is sometimes so at odds with his human qualities that one has to ask oneself whether a little less talent might not have been better.
Genius (n.) despises the rabble yet craves its recognition — Schopenhauer and Nietzsche succumbed to the herd instinct, for the heart's cry is meant for the herd.
Genius (n.) is the strength drawn from the tie to the maternal source — freed from the embrace of the unconscious by daring and sovereign independence.
Genius (n.) misunderstood is often the introverted intuitive who is no artist — a great man “gone wrong,” a wise simpleton, a figure for psychological novels.
Genius (n.) alone sees the idea, rising beyond all willing and individuality; a work of art passes it on to each person only in the measure of his own worth.
Genius (n.) is hated by the thoughtful of his nation not out of malice but from the instinct of self-preservation — because he voices what is already going on in the mass and anticipates their own aspirations; the deeper he sees, the stranger he becomes, and his fame, if it comes, is posthumous.
Genius (n.) draws on a vision everyone shares: the golden apples fall from one tree, whether a dim locksmith's apprentice picks them up or a Schopenhauer.
Genius (n.) nearly always intrudes and disturbs: speaking to a temporal world out of an eternal one, he says the wrong things at the right time — yet he is the healer of his time.
Genius (n.) is everywhere hemmed round by the unconscious god within: ideas flow to him he knows not whence, he is driven to create he knows not to what end.
Genius (n.) that is creative is never one but many, speaking in stillness to the souls of the multitude whose destiny it embodies.
Genius (n.) conjured by a teacher's optimism may turn out a blank — like the biography noting no sign of genius up to the subject's fortieth year, nor indeed afterwards.
Genius (n.) acts like a divine daemon far in advance of the child's years — one that needs no educating, but against which the child must be protected.
Genius (n.) that feels misunderstood usually turns out to be a good-for-nothing seeking a soothing explanation of himself — "Or perhaps you are nothing but a lazy hound?"
Genius (n.) is there by God's grace from the start, in full strength, and will come through despite everything; talent is a statistical regularity that can be crippled or fostered.
Genius (n.) is not the same as personality: a man may be a genius without being a personality.
Genius (n.) bears the brunt of an outsize psychic complex; if it can cope, it does so with joy, and if not, it must perform the symptomatic actions its gift imposes, writing, painting or composing what it suffers.