History (n.) is concerned almost exclusively with bad men (who overthrew some custom or other) and who subsequently became good men.
History (n.) is dangerous in that it disrupts the instincts of a people, and hinders the individual no less than the whole in the attainment of maturity.
History (n.) is dangerous in that it implants the belief that one is a latecomer and epigone.
History (n.) is dangerous in that it leads an age into a dangerous mood of irony in regard to itself.
History (n.) is dangerous in that it leads an age to imagine that it is at some historical pinnacle, possessing the rarest of virtues, justice, to a greater degree than any other age.
History (n.) is, in every single fact or work, an enunciator of an ever new truth over an ever new species of man.
History (n.) is nothing more than the belief in the senses, the belief in falsehood.
History (n.) is perhaps a mere fiction, but it is a fiction in which we should learn better how to employ for the purpose of life. For then our 'unwisdom' will at any rate have more future than their wisdom will.
History (n.) is tasked to see to it that nothing comes out of it except more history, and certainly no real events. History takes care that history does not make any personality 'free', that is to say truthful towards itself, truthful towards others, in both word and deed.
History (n.) is of three kinds: monumental history, antiquarian history, and critical history. Monumental history brings the great achievements in humanity into focus. Antiquitarian history reveres the past. Critical history involves attentiveness to flaws and failures within culture.
History (n.) is endured only by strong personalities; the weak ones are extinguished by it.
History's (n.) study has resulted in the great wars of the present age.
History (n.) is not fixed but ever-emerging, for the past is always still essentially undiscovered, and with every great man a thousand secrets of the past crawl out of their hiding places into his sunshine.
History (n.) is to be served only to the extent that it serves life: it is possible to value it so highly that life becomes stunted and degenerate.
History (n.) become pure, sovereign science would be a sort of conclusion of life — a settling of accounts with it.
History (n.) was knocked out of its natural orbit by a hostile star — science, the demand that history be a science: all frontiers torn down, all that has ever been rushes in, under the motto 'let truth prevail though life perish'.
History (n.) can be borne only by strong personalities; weak ones are utterly extinguished by it.
History (n.) makes its virtuoso a passive sounding-board — the original note of action and terror reaches us as the 'Eroica' arranged for two flutes for drowsy opium-smokers.
History (n.) is valuable not for its general propositions but as inspired variations on a familiar melody — raising a commonplace theme into a symbol that discloses a world of profundity, power and beauty.
History (n.) is still disguised theology — we are still living in the Middle Ages; the reverence the laity pays the learned is inherited from the reverence it paid the clergy.