Yea! To look down upon myself, and even upon my stars: that only would I call my summit, that hath remained for me as my last summit!— Thus spake Zarathustra to himself while ascending, comforting his heart with harsh maxims: for he was sore at heart as he had never been before. And when he had reached the top of the mountain-ridge, behold, there lay the other sea spread out before him: and he stood still and was long silent.
