The one conclusive argument that has at all times discouraged people from drinking a poison is not that it kills but rather that it tastes bad.
Those who are failures from the start, downtrodden, crushed -- it is they, the weakest, who must undermine life among men, who call into question and poison most dangerously our trust in life, in man, and in ourselves.
"State," I call it, where they all drink poison, the good and the wicked; "state," where they all lose themselves, the good and the wicked; "state," where they all call their slow suicide-"life."
A little poison now and then: that makes for pleasant dreams. And a lot of poison at the end, for a pleasant death.
Death. The certain prospect of death could sweeten every life with a precious and fragrant drop of levity- and now you strange apothecary souls have turned it into an ill-tasting drop of poison that makes the whole of life repulsive.
The doctrine of equality! There exists no more poisonous poison: for it seems to be preached by justice itself, while it is the end of justice.
Christianity gave Eros poison to drink; he did not die of it, certainly, but degenerated to Vice.
Silence is worse; all truths that are kept silent become poisonous.
The poison by which the weaker nature is destroyed is strengthening to the strong individual and he does not call it poison.