Christianity remains to this day the greatest misfortune of humanity.
Pitch-black winter nights live in my bones.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote expresses a deep, personal connection to the oppressive feelings of winter nights, reflecting inner emotional struggles.
Friedrich Nietzsche's quote 'Pitch-black winter nights live in my bones' evokes the profound and often burdensome influence of darkness and cold on the human experience. It suggests that such desolate circumstances are not merely external but are internalized deeply within oneβs very being, affecting one's thoughts, feelings, and overall perspective on life. This imagery illustrates the struggle with despair and the weight of existence during trying times, emphasizing how such moods can permeate oneβs core.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a speech about overcoming challenges, one might say, 'As Nietzsche reminded us, pitch-black winter nights live in my bones, yet we must find warmth in each other.'
More from Friedrich Nietzsche
All quotes βThat which does not kill us makes us stronger.
Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.
Watch them clamber, these swift monkeys! They clamber over one another and thus drag one another into the mud and the depth. They all want to get to the throne: that is their madness β as if happiness sat on the throne. Often, mud sits on the throne β and often the throne also on mud. Mad they all appear to me, clambering monkeys and overardent. Foul smells their idol, the cold monster: foul, they smell to me altogether, these idolators.
Reason is the cause of our falsification of the evidence of the senses. In so far as the senses show becoming, passing away, change, they do not lie.
The anarchist and the Christian have a common origin.
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Is it too much to ask that women be spared the daily struggle for superhuman beauty in order to offer it to the caresses of a subhumanly ugly mate?
It is a curve each of them feels, unmistakably. It is the parabola. They must have guessed, once or twice - guessed and refused to believe - that everything, always, collectively, had been moving toward that purified shape latent in the sky, that shape of no surprise, no second chance, no return. Yet they do move forever under it, reserved for its own black-and-white bad news certainly as if it were the rainbow, and they its children...
If a man's at odds to know his own mind it's because he hasn't got aught but his mind to know it with.
In a very real sense not one of us is qualified, but it seems that God continually chooses the most unqualified to do his work, to bear his glory. If we are qualified, we tend to think that we have done the job ourselves. If we are forced to accept our evident lack of qualification, then there's no danger that we will confuse God's work with our own, or God's glory with our own.