The Portable Nietzsche

by Friedrich Nietzsche

State I call it where all drink poison, the good and the wicked; state, where all lose themselves, the good and the wicked; state, where the slow suicide of all is called “life.” Behold the superfluous! They steal the works of the inventors and the treasures of the sages for themselves; “education” they call their theft—and everything turns to sickness and misfortune for them. Behold the superfluous! They are always sick; they vomit their gall and call it a newspaper. They devour each other and cannot even digest themselves. Behold the superfluous ! They gather riches and become poorer with them. They want power and first the lever of power, much money—the impotent paupers! Watch them clamber, these swift monkeys! They clamber over one another and thus drag one another into the mud and the depth. They all want to get to the throne: that is their madness—as if happiness sat on the throne. Often mud sits on the throne—and often also the throne on mud. Mad they all appear to me, clambering monkeys and overardent. Foul smells their idol, the cold monster: foul they smell to me altogether, these idolators.