XXI. Impose joyful rigor onto the self. Take back what society has robbed you of.
LXVI. The exalted self exists on the other side of strife.
CXIII. Cold, mountain air refreshes the spirit; it is Virtue to make a thought and deed prevail.
CXIV. The truly Strong swap routine and discipline for adventurousness and will power.
CXXXI. A sword or spear that swings true; the sudden dissipation of fear; the surge of Courage inside the chest and a newfound want of Victory—these are miracles, rescue is not.
CLXXXIX. Strength justifies itself, derives sanction from the Sun, and goes its way regardless of praise or blame.
CCXII. Through will and action—carve space.
CCXXVIII. The purpose of fear is to dissuade a fight from taking place or to halve your power when you go to it.
CCXLVIII. The path to Victory begins with seeing things as they are.
CCLVI. Absolute adherence to one’s principles is the mechanism underlying strength. Where victorious, it affirms; where short, it hardens tissue.
CCLIX. Hysterics are for the lowly; those wholly bereft of Will, those utterly consumed by the fear of death.
CCLXIV. Hold apart in all things and orient the Self upward.
CCLXVI. There is surely something evil in the night, since by daybreak, every doubt and misery has expired.
CCLXVII. The forces that predominate can be beaten.
CCLXXXIV. The recklessness of a child exists to be tempered into Daring. Wherever one strives to destroy it, they will create either a lamb or a criminal.
CCXCI. The antagonist of pleasure is accomplishment, not abnegation.
CCXCV. Man or Woman, Elder or Child—Fortune rains down on the one who fights.
CCXCVI. the Spirit exalts in the appearance of bad omens for they indicate either a battle, or the conditions for testing one’s mettle.
CCCLIX. Genuine resolve purifies the Self.
CDXIX. There is a covert type that elevates his personal failure into a universal principle.
CDXXIV. Recall throughout History the manifold situations that were smashed to pieces by outstanding ability. Prepare.
CDLXVI. Like a sick man rising out of bed, wondering why he laid down; like realizing that for several long decades, you were afflicted by a false diagnosis; like if a hawk, confused, had crawled on its belly and suddenly learned it could fly—the Spirit awakens, startled. And something above surely celebrates.
I lost track of what you “liked” of mine, but it led me here and I’m glad. I love all the aphorisms, but especially the ones that validate my instincts that made me decide to leave work early and snowboard tonight, allowing me to bask in joy, mountain air and spontaneity, all things you clearly recommend during troubling times. Thank you!