The Mask (n.) is loved by the profound: the profoundest things have a hatred even of figure and likeness.
The Mask (n.) is required of every profound spirit. Or rather, around every profound spirit a mask is continually growing.
A Mask (n.) is worn by everyone now: no one dares appear as he is but masks himself as scholar, poet, politician; seize the mask and you have nothing but rags in your hands. Off with your coats or be what you seem!
Mask (n.) can be all there is — some women prove to be purely masks, yet they arouse a man's desire most strongly: he seeks for her soul, and goes on seeking.
A Mask (n.) is what everything profound loves; what is most profound even hates image and parable.
A Mask (n.) grows continually around every profound spirit, out of the constantly shallow interpretation of every word and sign of life he gives.
A Mask (n.) is what the wanderer back from every depth asks for when offered rest: "Another mask! A second mask!"
A Mask (n.) seen as separate from the driving force behind it is the sign of a broken instinct; victory needs a good conscience in falsity.