Reason (n.) annexed by this romanticism is nothing more than an inflexible passion.
Reason (n.) becomes aesthetic with Plotinus after being logical: metaphor takes the place of the syllogism.
Reason (n.) once every value is discredited acts with reference to nothing but its own successes.
Reason (n.) and the irrational lead to the same preaching; the way matters little, the will to arrive suffices.
Reason (n.) in our hands has driven all away; alone at last, we end up ruling over a desert.
Reason (n.) and the will to power turn out, with the Possessed, to be identical — one of the secrets of the times.
Reason (n.) is efficacious but limited; the absurd is born precisely where it meets the ever resurgent irrational.
Reason (n.) does not preach — or if it does, it is no longer reason; nothing is less bent on conquest than reason.
Reason (n.) is useless to the absurd mind, and there is nothing beyond it; to Chestov it is useless, but there is something beyond.
Reason (n.) has become deadly since we put the will's impulse in its very center; the Greeks gave the will the boundaries of reason.
Reason (n.) is the ridiculous thing that sets me against all creation; were I a tree among trees, a cat among animals, the problem would not arise.
Reason (n.) is not a one-way notion: since Plotinus it has learned to drop its most cherished principle, contradiction, to admit the magic one of participation.