The death of one god is the death of all.

Begin, ephebe, by perceiving the idea Of this invention, this invented world, The inconceivable idea of the sun. You must become an ignorant man again And see …

Phoebus is dead, ephebe. But Phoebus was A name for something that never could be named. There was a project for the sun and is. There is a project for the sun…

Here is the bread of time to come, Here is its actual stone. The bread Will be our bread, the stone will be Our bed and we shall sleep by night. We shall forge…

I wondered a little why God was such a useless thing. It seemed a waste of time to have him. After that he became less and less, until he was: nothingness.

Skepticism, riddling the faith of yesterday, prepared the way for the faith of tomorrow.

Believing in progress does not mean believing that any progress has yet been made. That is not the sort of belief that indicates real faith.