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607 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1883
العار، العار، العار .. ذلك هو تاريخ الإنسان...
أنت المحكوم عليك بنفسك.. و برجم نفسك بنفسك
أما هناك في في الأسفل
الكل يتكلم هناك.. ولا شيء يُسمع
وحتى لو أعلن المرء عن حكمته قرعاً بالأجراس..فإن بقالي السوق سيغطون على صوته برنين القروش
وعندما يلقى الواحد بنفسه في لهب النار من اجل مذهبه ..
أي شي يعني هذا الصنيع ؟؟
الحق أقول لك أنه الأفضل أن يكون لهبك الخاص هو منع مذهبك
حقا أقول لكم أن البشر هم الذين ابتدعو لانفسهم كل الخير والشر
حقا لم يتسلموا ذلك ولم يجدوا ذلك ولا شي من ذلك جاءهم وحيا من السماء
لكم هي مقرفة عبارة " فضيلة " وهي تسري على أفواههم .. وعندما يقول أحدهم : أنا عادل .. فإن لكلمته تلك دوما وقع : اقتصصت لنفسي
لقد أصبحت خفيفا .. فأنا أطير شاعرا بأنني أحلق فوق ذاتي..وأن الها يرقص بداخلي
لكي تكون الحياة فرجة مستساغة لابد ان تلعب لعبتها بإحكام لكن لابد من ممثلين جيدين لهذا الغرض , ولقد وجدت في كل المغرورين ممثلين جيدين : انهم يلعبون دورهم ويريدون ان يرغب الناس في مشاهدتهم - ان روحهم بكليتها مسكونة بهذه الارادة , يؤدون دورهم ويبتكرون انفسهم , وفي جوارهم اجد متعة مشاهدة الحياة -ان ذلك علاج نافع ضد الكآبة.لذلك اداري المغرورين ,لأنهم اطباء كآبتي وهم الذين يجعلونني انشد الى الانسان انشدادي الى فرجة مسرحية
You say to me "Life is hard to bear." But why would you have pride in the morning and your resignation in the evening? Life is hard to bear; but do not act so tenderly! We are all of us fair beasts of burden, male and female asses. What do we have in common with the rosebud, which trembles because a drop of dew lies on it?Warriors of the Mind: Those with the courage to fight for their beliefs have helped mankind far more than priests who meekly accept the ideas of others.
True, we love life, not because we are used to living but because we are used to loving. There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.
You invite a witness when you want to speak well of yourselves; and when you have seduced him to think well of you, then you think well of yourselves.Using other people as a prop to make them feel virtuous. Groups of virtuous people feeling very good can do great evil to strangers whom they should love too.
Thus speaks the fool: "Association with other people corrupts one's character—especially if one has none."
One man goes to his neighbor because he seeks himself; another because he would lose himself. Your bad love of yourselves turns your solitude into a prison. It is those farther away who must pay for your love of your neighbor; and even if five of you are together, there is always a sixth who must die.
Verily, I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good because they had no claws.Nietzsche says God is dead but he constantly refers to angels and magic creatures: is he creating a new religion of the Overman? Of becoming?
At bottom, these simpletons want a single thing most of all: that nobody should hurt them. Thus they try to please and gratify everybody. This, however, is cowardice, even if it be called virtue...Virtue to them is that which makes modest and tame: with that they have turned the wolf into a dog and man himself into man's domestic animal.Nietzsche also frequently mentions his nausea, which chokes him like a snake. It's always the ejection of that which sustains life brought about by life's own unsettling essence and energies.
"We have placed our chair in the middle," your smirking says to me; "and exactly as far from dying fighters as from amused sows." That, however, is mediocrity, though it be called moderation.
For man is the cruelest animal. At tragedies, bullfights and crucifixions he has so far felt best on earth; and when he invented hell for himself, behold, that was his heaven on earth. Man is the cruelest animal against himself; and whenever he calls himself 'sinner' and 'cross-bearer' and 'penitent', do not fail to hear the voluptuous delight that is in all such lamentation and accusation.Zarathustra, through love of nature, has accepted his love of eternity and the eternal re-occurrence. Now in Part IV, as he has overcome his nausea of the eternal re-occurrence, he faces his final trial: pity.
Whosoever would kill most thoroughly, laughs—not by wrath does one kill, but by laughter.
Life is a well of delight; but where the rabble also drink, there all fountains are poisoned. To everything cleanly am I well disposed; but I hate to see the grinning mouths and the thirst of the unclean.
Verily, I have often laughed at the weaklings, who think themselves good because they have crippled paws!
The stupidity of the good is unfathomably wise.
O my soul, I have given thee new names and gay-coloured playthings, I have called thee "Fate" and "the Circuit of circuits" and "the Navel-string of time" and "the Azure bell."
Let your love to life be love to your highest hope; and let your highest hope be the highest thought of life!
As yet woman is not capable of friendship: women are still cats, and birds. Or at the best, cows.
Everything in woman is a riddle, and everything in woman hath one solution - it is pregnancy.
The happiness of man is, "I will." The happiness of woman is, "He will."
Surface, is woman's soul, a mobile, stormy film on shallow water. Man's soul, however, is deep, its current gusheth in subterranean caverns: woman surmiseth its force, but comprehendeth it not.
I have at all times written my writings with my whole heart and soul: I do not know what purely intellectual problems are.There is a great deal of Nietzsche that I agree with, and hoards with which I vehemently do not. I've been accumulating quotes of his for five years now, quotes whose inherent lack of context made me like him more than I do now. I still love many of his phrases as much as I did before, but if we ever met, we would not like each other at all.
'This - is now my way: where is yours?' Thus I answered those who asked me 'the way'. For the way - does not exist!I shall keep this in mind, Nietzsche, if nothing else. Not all of what your Zarathustra spoke rings true to me, but you are one of the few who favored freedom over advice. For that, I am in your debt.
I am of today and of the has-been (he said then); but there is something in me that is of tomorrow and of the day-after-tomorrow and of the shall-be.
"إن أكبر سؤال من الأسئلة المحيرة اليوم هو: "كيف يمكن حفظ الإنسان؟" لكن زرادشت يظل الوحيد والأول الذي يسأل: كيف يمكن تجاوز الإنسان؟"