30 Quotes by Dylan Callens

The hatred that I harbored for Lou and Paul faded into the background. The cold, lonely mountains which once filled my mouth and mind with the madness of Zarathustra shifted into a lithium passivity. Even Wagner was nothing more than a jester for some cathartic writing, allowing me to purge the bales of contempt that I had for the man.

Marry me, Lou,” Nietzsche bent down on one knee, his knees creaked. He peered over top of his glasses with a gaze of pitiful defeat. He had met his match with Lou. She was brilliant, shrewd, and brave. Taking risks that other women dare not. “Get up, Friedrich,” she responded, “You know that I won’t marry you or anyone else.

The worst thing, however, was having to watch those Nazis use my philosophy, thanks to Elisabeth’s editing. They twisted it into something so perverse and unimaginable. Using it as part of their platform to execute genocide,” Nietzsche hung his head, shaking it at the ground, his hands clenched around the arms of the chair.

Nietzsche felt like Rommel, hiding behind The Cauldron at Gazala – waiting and biding his time while his enemies took their shots, holding his position. The impenetrable defense took down tank after tank until the enemy couldn’t fight any more. Then, a quick attack was mounted and Rommel took Torbuk in a single day. He chased the British to Egypt. That’s where Nietzsche was right now, mounting his offensive, ready to chase both God and the Norse. Oh, how he wanted vengeance on both fronts.

So, he eagerly drove from Basel to Bayreuth before the festival began to watch the last rehearsals of The Ring Cycle. As he watched, it hit him like Odin's bowel movement: the opera was shit.

Why don't you come down that hall with me,” she asked, “Let me show you something that you probably haven't seen before.”Nietzsche nodded again. He didn't understand what was happening but he knew that it was something he wanted. So they stood up. She led him to a room at the end of the hall by his hand.And soon after, she gave him syphilis.

Freud kept himself amused while waiting for God by inhaling glue that was gummed up inside a plastic bag. In mid huff, God rushed through the door, “Oh my God, you have to try this,” Freud giggled. “I'm so baked. And dizzy. Actually, I don't feel good at all.

There’s Buddha. If ever I met a hippy-slacker-God, it’s Buddha. Just yesterday I had this strange run in with him. ‘Buddha bless you,’ he says to me. Out of the blue. So I ask him, ‘Why do you refer to yourself in the third person?’ He smiled at me, his eyes bloodshot and half-closed.

God stared at his feet a little longer. He sighed, “Do you mean when it comes to the job itself? I don’t know. It isn’t what it used to be.