Pride (n.) should be enough, when you are not rich, to let you be poor.
Pride (n.) should walk beside wisdom, so that when wisdom flies away it can fly off with your folly.
Pride (n.) shown even in the eye of a war-horse in an old family portrait can lift a depressed humanity.
Pride (n.) in many a peacock is the hiding of his tail from all eyes, which he then calls his pride.
Pride (n.) is shown in the power to humble oneself — "who is able to humble himself like you with such pride?"
Pride (n.) feels chagrined even by those who advance it: the proud are angry with the horses of their carriage.
Pride (n.) in knowing lies like a blinding fog over the eyes, deceiving us about the value of existence by flattering the value of knowing.
Pride (n.) is the tortured man carried back to his cell, his secret still clenched in his teeth — what do you know of its rejoicing?
Pride (n.) wins the argument with memory: memory says I did this, pride says I cannot have, and in the end memory gives way.
Pride (n.) can make love impossible: Nietzsche was too proud to think anyone could love him, since that would require knowing who he was.
Pride (n.) of the right degree might say to one's fellows: look after me, for I have something better to do — namely, to look after you.
Pride (n.) exhibited by a philosopher is a great pride indeed, and Heraclitus had it: his activities never directed him toward any public or any applause.
Pride (n.) in passion reverses the sexes: whole women grow pale lest the beloved be unworthy of them; whole men grow pale lest they be unworthy of the beloved.
Pride (n.) is stronger than memory: "I did this," says my memory. "I cannot have done this," says my pride, remaining inexorable. Eventually, my memory yields.