Thus Spake Zarathustra A book for all and none

by Friedrich Nietzsche

To-day sufferest thou still from the multitude, thou individual; to-day hast thou still thy courage unabated, and thy hopes. But one day will the solitude weary thee; one day will thy pride yield, and thy courage quail. Thou wilt one day cry: "I am alone!" One day wilt thou see no longer thy loftiness, and see too closely thy lowliness; thy sublimity itself will frighten thee as a phantom. Thou wilt one day cry: "All is false!" There are feelings which seek to slay the lonesome one; if they do not succeed, then must they themselves die! But art thou capable of it—to be a murderer?

—Neither a good nor a bad taste, but MY taste, of which I have no longer either shame or secrecy. "This—is now MY way,—where is yours?" Thus did I answer those who asked me "the way." For THE way—it doth not exist!

"This—is now MY way,—where is yours?" Thus did I answer those who asked me "the way." For THE way—it doth not exist!