I am no man, I am dynamite.— Yet for all that, there is nothing in me of a founder of a religion—religions are affairs of the mob; I find it necessary to wash my hands after I have come into contact with religious people.—
. . . I do not want to be a holy man; sooner even a buffoon.— Perhaps I am a buffoon.— Yet in spite of that—or rather not in spite of it, because so far nobody has been more mendacious than holy men—the truth speaks out of me.— But my truth is terrible; for so far one has called lies truth.