More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
He hath subdued monsters, he hath solved enigmas. But he should also redeem his monsters and enigmas; into heavenly children should he transform them. As yet hath his knowledge not learned to smile, and to be without jealousy; as yet hath his gushing passion not become calm in beauty.
A little more, a little less: precisely this is much here, it is the most here.
For this is the secret of the soul: when the hero hath abandoned it, then only approacheth it in dreams—the superhero.—
All times and peoples gaze divers-coloured out of your veils; all customs and beliefs speak divers-coloured out of your gestures.
Dare only to believe in yourselves—in yourselves and in your inward parts! He who doth not believe in himself always lieth.
Should I not have to be a cask of memory, if I also wanted to have my reasons with me? It is already too much for me even to retain mine opinions; and many a bird flieth away.
We also know too little, and are bad learners: so we are obliged to lie.
They are also not pure enough for me: they all muddle their water that it may seem deep.
The greatest events—are not our noisiest, but our stillest hours.
This counsel, however, do I counsel to kings and churches, and to all that is weak with age or virtue—let yourselves be o'erthrown! That ye may again come to life, and that virtue—may come to you!—"
In vain was all our labour, poison hath our wine become, the evil eye hath singed yellow our fields and hearts. Arid have we all become; and fire falling upon us, then do we turn dust like ashes:—yea, the fire itself have we made aweary. All our fountains have dried up, even the sea hath receded. All the ground trieth to gape, but the depth will not swallow! 'Alas! where is there still a sea in which one could be drowned?' so soundeth our plaint—across shallow swamps. Verily, even for dying have we become too weary; now do we keep awake and live on—in sepulchres."
Brightness of midnight was ever around me; lonesomeness cowered beside her; and as a third, death-rattle stillness, the worst of my female friends.
But as thou awokest from them and camest to thyself, so shall they awaken from themselves—and come unto thee!"
called: thus have I taught you, my friends! But now learn this likewise: the Will itself is still a prisoner. Willing emancipateth: but what is that called which still putteth the emancipator in chains?
"And this itself is justice, the law of time—that he must devour his children:" thus did madness preach.
"Morally are things ordered according to justice and penalty. Oh, where is there deliverance from the flux of things and from the 'existence' of penalty?" Thus did madness preach.
"No deed can be annihilated: how could it be undone by the penalty! This, this is what is eternal in the 'existence' of penalty, that existence also must be eternally recurring deed and guilt!
This is my first manly prudence, that I allow myself to be deceived, so as not to be on my guard against deceivers.
And he who would not languish amongst men, must learn to drink out of all glasses; and he who would keep clean amongst men, must know how to wash himself even with dirty water.
This, however, is mine other manly prudence: I am more forbearing to the VAIN than to the proud. Is not wounded vanity the mother of all tragedies? Where, however, pride is wounded, there there groweth up something better than pride.
"O Zarathustra, he who hath to remove mountains removeth also valleys and plains."—
Then was there again spoken unto me without voice: "What knowest thou THEREOF! The dew falleth on the grass when the night is most silent."—
"What matter about their mockery! Thou art one who hast unlearned to obey: now shalt thou command!
To execute great things is difficult: but the more difficult task is to command great things.
This is thy most unpardonable obstinacy: thou hast the power, and thou wilt not rule."—
"It is the stillest words which bring the storm. Thoughts that come with doves' footsteps guide the world.
"Thou must yet become a child, and be without shame.
"Ye look aloft when ye long for exaltation, and I look downward because I am exalted. "Who among you can at the same time laugh and be exalted? "He who climbeth on the highest mountains, laugheth at all tragic plays and tragic realities."—ZARATHUSTRA, I., "Reading and Writing."
He who hath always much-indulged himself, sickeneth at last by his much-indulgence. Praises on what maketh hardy! I do not praise the land where butter and honey—flow!
To learn TO LOOK AWAY FROM oneself, is necessary in order to see MANY THINGS:—this hardiness is needed by every mountain-climber.
Every monster wouldst thou caress. A whiff of warm breath, a little soft tuft on its paw—: and immediately wert thou ready to love and lure it.
LOVE is the danger of the lonesomest one, love to anything, IF IT ONLY LIVE! Laughable, verily, is my folly and my modesty in love!—
Courage slayeth also giddiness at abysses: and where doth man not stand at abysses! Is not seeing itself—seeing abysses?
Courage is the best slayer: courage slayeth also fellow-suffering. Fellow-suffering, however, is the deepest abyss: as deeply as man looketh into life, so deeply also doth he look into suffering.
He who hath ears to hear, let him hear.—
For whatever happiness is still on its way 'twixt heaven and earth, now seeketh for lodging a luminous soul: WITH HAPPINESS hath all light now become stiller.
O afternoon of my life! O happiness before eventide! O haven upon high seas! O peace in uncertainty! How I distrust all of you!
Away with thee, thou blissful hour! With thee hath there come to me an involuntary bliss! Ready for my severest pain do I here stand:—at the wrong time hast thou come!
amongst men do I hate most of all the soft-treaders, and half-and-half ones, and the doubting, hesitating, passing clouds.
"he who cannot bless shall LEARN to curse!"—this clear teaching dropt unto me from the clear heaven; this star standeth in my heaven even in dark nights.
For all things are baptized at the font of eternity, and beyond good and evil; good and evil themselves, however, are but fugitive shadows and damp afflictions and passing clouds.
over them and through them, no "eternal Will"—willeth.
"In everything there is one thing impossible—rationality!"
A LITTLE reason, to be sure, a germ of wisdom scattered from star to star—this leaven is mixed in all things: for the sake of folly, wisdom is mixed in all things!
A little wisdom is indeed possible; but this blessed security have I found in all things, that they prefer—...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
The world is deep:—and deeper than e'er the day could read. Not everything may be uttered in presence of day. But day cometh: so let us part! O heaven above me, thou modest one! thou glowing one! O thou, my happiness before sunrise! The day cometh: so let us part!— Thus spake Zarathustra.
