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  “My wife felt sorry for Herr Nietzsche. ‘That man needs a good woman!’, she always said, and she told him, too, whenever he came to stay with us. “He used to laugh and say, ‘Then perhaps you’d better find me one Madame Croissettes!’ or ‘Ah but Madame, I had my heart set on you, but you gave yourself to another!’ In this way he indulged my beloved wife who took great pains to make Herr Nietzsche comfortable, which was not easy, I hasten to

“H eresy is the conscience of culture, the voice of its deeper truths. It is not the heretic that society should fear, but blind orthodoxy. Orthodoxy controls the mob, its rabble-rousing spirit sways their opinions and swells the crowd, its power pours into the square, amplifying the calls for blood. And yet orthodoxy is confounded by its own appetite for persecution. For the heretic’s exemplary silence begins to convert the mob even as the flames consume him, his resolute enchantment speaks down the ages, louder

Dangerous Renaissance Heresy throughout the ages….   Botticelli, Michelangelo, Raphael and forbidden beauty…   “I recall my father telling me – and then later on seeing it for myself – that when these paintings by Botticelli and the others began to appear, and the buildings of Raphael and Michelangelo as well: well, everyone knew something strange was happening, something not altogether permissible  – because these works of art were dangerously beautiful: not of this world, and yet strangely belonging to it at the same time.