You higher, men do you think I am here to make well what you have made ill? Or that I wanted to bed you sufferers more comfortably from now on? Or to show new, easier footpaths to you who are unsteady, who have wandered astray, who have climbed astray? No! No! Three times no! Ever more, ever better ones of your kind shall perish, — for you shall have it ever worse and harder. In this way alone — — in this way alone man grows tall, to where the lightning strikes and shivers him: high enough for the lightning!
