Also sprach Zarathustra: Ein Buch für Alle und Keinen

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 145

Beide auffahren, sich anfahren, Todfeinden gleich, diese zwei
zu Tod Erschrockenen: also ergieng es uns.

Und doch! Und doch - wie wenig hat gefehlt, dass sie einander
liebkosten, dieser Hund und dieser Einsame! Sind sie doch Beide -
Einsame!"

- "Wer du auch sein magst, sagte immer noch grimmig der Getretene,
du trittst mir auch mit deinem Gleichniss zu nahe, und nicht nur mit
deinem Fusse!

Siehe doch, bin ich denn ein Hund?" - und dabei erhob sich der
Sitzende und zog seinen nackten Arm aus dem Sumpfe. Zuerst nämlich
hatte er ausgestreckt am Boden gelegen, verborgen und unkenntlich
gleich Solchen, die einem Sumpf-Wilde auflauern.

"Aber was treibst du doch!" rief Zarathustra erschreckt, denn er
sahe, dass über den nackten Arm weg viel Blut floss, - was ist dir
zugestossen? Biss dich, du Unseliger, ein schlimmes Thier?

Der Blutende lachte, immer noch erzürnt. "Was geht's dich an! sagte er
und wollte weitergehn. Hier bin ich heim und in meinem Bereiche. Mag
mich fragen, wer da will: einem Tölpel aber werde ich schwerlich
antworten."

"Du irrst, sagte Zarathustra mitleidig und hielt ihn fest, du irrst:
hier bist du nicht bei dir, sondern in meinem Reiche, und darin soll
mir Keiner zu Schaden kommen.

Nenne mich aber immerhin, wie du willst, - ich bin, der ich sein muss.
Ich selber heisse mich Zarathustra.

Wohlan! Dort hinauf geht der Weg zu Zarathustra's Höhle: die ist nicht
fern, - willst du nicht bei mir deiner Wunden warten?

Es gieng dir schlimm, du Unseliger, in diesem Leben: erst biss dich
das Thier, und dann - trat dich der Mensch!" - -

Als aber der Getretene den Namen Zarathustra's hörte, verwandelte er
sich. "Was geschieht mir doch! rief er aus, _wer_ kümmert mich denn
noch in diesem Leben, als dieser Eine Mensch, nämlich Zarathustra, und
jenes Eine Thier, das vom Blute lebt, der Blutegel?

Des Blutegels halber lag ich hier an diesem Sumpfe wie ein Fischer,
und schon war mein ausgehängter Arm zehn Mal angebissen, da beisst
noch ein schönerer Igel nach meinem Blute, Zarathustra selber!

Oh Glück! Oh Wunder! Gelobt sei dieser Tag, der mich in diesen Sumpf
lockte! Gelobt sei der beste lebendigste Schröpfkopf, der heut lebt,
gelobt sei der grosse Gewissens-Blutegel Zarathustra!" -

Also sprach der Getretene; und Zarathustra freute sich über seine
Worte und ihre feine ehrfürchtige Art. "Wer bist du? fragte er und
reichte ihm die Hand, zwischen uns bleibt Viel aufzuklären und
aufzuheitern: aber schon, dünkt mich, wird es reiner heller Tag."

"Ich bin _der_Gewissenhafte_des_Geistes_, antwortete der Gefragte, und
in Dingen des Geistes nimmt es nicht leicht Einer strenger, enger und
härter als ich, ausgenommen der, von dem ich's lernte, Zarathustra
selber.

Lieber Nichts wissen, als

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Text Comparison with The Birth of Tragedy; or, Hellenism and Pessimism

Page 4
In the autumn of 1864, he began his university life in Bonn, and studied philology and theology; at the end of six months he gave up theology, and in the autumn of 1865 followed his famous teacher Ritschl to the University of Leipzig.
Page 6
From the first he was never blind to the faults in his master's system, and in proof of this we have only to refer to an essay he wrote in the autumn of 1867, which actually contains a criticism of Schopenhauer's philosophy.
Page 10
The kernel of its thought he always recognised as perfectly correct; and all he deplored in later days was that he had spoiled the grand problem of Hellenism, as he understood it, by adulterating it with ingredients taken from the world of most modern ideas.
Page 17
.
Page 21
Perhaps, however, this same class of readers will be shocked at seeing an æsthetic problem taken so seriously, especially.
Page 22
THE BIRTH OF TRAGEDY.
Page 25
In these St.
Page 29
3.
Page 48
In their theatres the terraced structure of the spectators' space rising in concentric arcs enabled every one, in the strictest sense, to _overlook_ the entire world of culture around him, and in surfeited contemplation to imagine himself a chorist.
Page 53
Œdipus, the murderer of his father, the husband of his mother, Œdipus, the interpreter of the riddle of the Sphinx! What does the mysterious triad of these deeds of destiny tell us? There is a primitive popular belief, especially in Persia, that a wise Magian can be born only of incest: which we have forthwith to interpret to ourselves with reference to the riddle-solving and mother-marrying Œdipus, to the effect that when the boundary of the present and future, the rigid law of individuation and, in general, the intrinsic spell of nature, are broken by prophetic and magical powers, an extraordinary counter-naturalness--as, in this case, incest--must have preceded as a cause; for how else could one force nature to surrender her secrets but by victoriously opposing her, _i.
Page 61
to say aught exhaustive on the subject, to characterise what Euripides has in common with Menander and Philemon, and what appealed to them so strongly as worthy of imitation: it will suffice to say that the _spectator_ was brought upon the stage by Euripides.
Page 64
Of these two, spectators the one is--Euripides himself, Euripides _as thinker,_ not as poet.
Page 65
Dionysus had already been scared from the tragic stage, and in fact by a demonic power which spoke through Euripides.
Page 69
" Accordingly we may regard Euripides as the poet of æsthetic Socratism.
Page 77
For then its disciples would have been obliged to feel like those who purposed to dig a hole straight through the earth: each one of whom perceives that with the utmost lifelong exertion he is able to excavate only a very little of the enormous depth, which is again filled up before his eyes by the labours of his successor, so that a third man seems to do well when on his own account he selects a new spot for his attempts at tunnelling.
Page 83
But the analogy discovered by the composer between the two must have proceeded from the direct knowledge of the nature of the world unknown to his reason, and must not be an imitation produced with conscious intention by means of conceptions; otherwise the music does not express the inner nature of the will itself, but merely gives an inadequate imitation of its.
Page 90
All our educational methods have originally this ideal in view: every other form of existence must struggle onwards wearisomely beside it, as something tolerated, but not intended.
Page 109
collapse of the Apollonian apex, if not from the _Dionysian_ spell, which, though apparently stimulating the Apollonian emotions to their highest pitch, can nevertheless force this superabundance of Apollonian power into its service? _Tragic myth_ is to be understood only as a symbolisation of Dionysian wisdom by means of the expedients of Apollonian art: the mythus conducts the world of phenomena to its boundaries, where it denies itself, and seeks to flee back again into the bosom of the true and only reality; where it then, like Isolde, seems to strike up its metaphysical swan-song:-- In des Wonnemeeres wogendem Schwall, in der Duft-Wellen tönendem Schall, in des Weltathems wehendem All-- ertrinken--versinken unbewusst--höchste Lust![24] We thus realise to ourselves in the experiences of the truly æsthetic hearer the tragic artist himself when he proceeds like a luxuriously fertile divinity of individuation to create his figures (in which sense his work can hardly be understood as an "imitation of nature")--and when, on the other hand, his vast Dionysian impulse then absorbs the entire world of phenomena, in order to anticipate beyond it, and through its annihilation, the highest artistic primal joy, in the bosom of the Primordial Unity.
Page 113
It is from this abyss that the German Reformation came forth: in the choral-hymn of which the future melody of German music first resounded.
Page 115
Perhaps many a one will be of opinion that this spirit must begin its struggle with the elimination of the Romanic element: for which it might recognise an external preparation and encouragement in the victorious bravery and bloody glory of the late war, but must seek the inner constraint in the emulative zeal to be for ever worthy of the sublime protagonists on this path, of Luther as well as our great artists and poets.