Thus Spoke Zarathustra: A Book for Everyone and No One

by Friedrich Nietzsche

But when Zarathustra was alone, he spoke thus to his heart: “Could it be possible, then? This old saint in his forest has heard nothing yet about God being dead.”

You have made your way from worm to man, and much in you is still worm.

Verily, man is a filthy stream. One must be a veritable sea in order to absorb such a filthy stream and not become unclean.

‘What does my pity matter: Is pity not the cross upon which he who loves mankind is nailed?

A little poison now and then: that makes for pleasant dreams. And a lot of poison in the end for a pleasant death.

No shepherd and one herd! Everyone wants the same, everyone is the same: he who feels otherwise goes freely to the madhouse.

Outstanding it is, to have a lot of virtues, but it is a hard lot; and many a man has gone into the desert and killed himself because he was weary of being the battle and battlefield of virtues.

Life is hard to bear: but do not pretend to be so tender! We are altogether fine load bearing asses and she-asses.

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

But it is the same with man as it is with the tree. The more it wants to be up in the height and the light, the stronger its roots strive earthward, downward, into the dark, the deep, — into evil.”

“The annihilator of morals the good and the just call me: my story is immoral.

It is nobler to admit being wrong than to insist on being right, especially if one is in the right.

One repays a teacher badly if one always remains only a pupil.

but he who is not afraid of my darkness will also find slopes of roses under my cypresses.

This lesson, however, I impart to you, you fool, in parting: where one can no longer love, there one should— pass by!

Lust for power: which, however, also rises alluringly to the pure and solitary ones and up to self-sufficient heights, glowing like a love which paints crimson joys alluringly on earthy skies.

My brain is not built to handle this. It's too abstract, and my poor brain is melting.