Tragedy (n.) shows both powers equally right, and therefore, in the antithesis their action brings about, equally wrong.
Tragedy (n.) reaches its true end only when both sides suffer the same destruction, since neither power has any advantage over the other.
Tragedy (n.) exalts us not when the best goes under but when truth triumphs — when noble figures incur guilt as champions of equally just ethical forces in collision.
Tragedy (n.) needs a hero wholly identified with one law who cannot see the other, while we spectators, holding both in view, are already in the realm of comedy.
Tragedy (n.) is a case not of right against wrong but of right against right two equally justified ethical principles embodied in people of unchangeable will.
Tragedy (n.) ends by leaving us shattered by the fate of the heroes but reconciled fundamentally — it is not 'when vice vomits, virtue sits at table'.
Tragedy (n.) is the language that stops narrating and enters its content: the hero himself speaks, an artist proving the rightness of his action and asserting his pathos free of accident.
Tragedy (n.) is the collision of two justified powers, each of which can affirm its own truth only by violating the equally justified other — so each becomes guilty in its moral life and because of it.
Tragedy (n.) resolves by destroying only the one-sided particular that could not fit the harmony — and the tragic thing is that, unable to renounce itself, it finds itself condemned to total destruction.
Tragedy (n.) inflicts suffering only as the consequence of one's own deed — a deed both legitimate and, through the collision it causes, blameworthy, for which the whole self is answerable.
Tragedy (n.) turns on a deceptive knowledge: the agent is at once ignorant of what he does and knows what he does — and through his own act learns the downfall of the powers and his own.
Tragedy (n.) makes the necessity of the heroes' fate intelligible, and so prepares men to step beyond the partial identifications that doom them, to desert the city and its gods.