Also sprach Zarathustra: Ein Buch für Alle und Keinen

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 154

sein willst, wittere ich
einen heimlichen Weih- und Wohlgeruch von langen Segnungen: mir wird
wohl und wehe dabei.

Lass mich deinen Gast sein, oh Zarathustra, für eine einzige Nacht!
Nirgends auf Erden wird es mir jetzt wohler als bei dir!" -

"Amen! So soll es sein! sprach Zarathustra mit grosser Verwunderung,
dort hinauf führt der Weg, da liegt die Höhle Zarathustra's.

Gerne, fürwahr, würde ich dich selber dahin geleiten, du Ehrwürdiger,
denn ich liebe alle frommen Menschen. Aber jetzt ruft mich eilig ein
Nothschrei weg von dir.

In meinem Bereiche soll mir Niemand zu Schaden kommen; meine Höhle ist
ein guter Hafen. Und am liebsten möchte ich jedweden Traurigen wieder
auf festes Land und feste Beine stellen.

Wer aber nähme dir _deine_ Schwermuth von der Schulter? Dazu bin ich
zu schwach. Lange, wahrlich, möchten wir warten, bis dir Einer deinen
Gott wieder aufweckt.

Dieser alte Gott nämlich lebt nicht mehr: der ist gründlich todt." -

Also sprach Zarathustra.

Der hässlichste Mensch

- Und wieder liefen Zarathustra's Füsse durch Berge und Wälder, und
seine Augen suchten und suchten, aber nirgends war Der zu sehen,
welchen sie sehn wollten, der grosse Nothleidende und Nothschreiende.
Auf dem ganzen Wege aber frohlockte er in seinem Herzen und war
dankbar. "Welche guten Dinge, sprach er, schenkte mir doch dieser Tag,
zum Entgelt, dass er schlimm begann! Welche seltsamen Unterredner fand

An deren Worten will ich lange nun kauen gleich als an guten Körnern;
klein soll mein Zahn sie mahlen und malmen, bis sie mir wie Milch in
die Seele fliessen!" - -

Als aber der Weg wieder um einen Felsen bog, veränderte sich mit Einem
Male die Landschaft, und Zarathustra trat in ein Reich des Todes. Hier
starrten schwarze und rothe Klippen empor: kein Gras, kein Baum, keine
Vogelstimme. Es war nämlich ein Thal, welches alle Thiere mieden,
auch die Raubthiere-, nur dass eine Art hässlicher, dicker, grüner
Schlangen, wenn sie alt wurden, hierher kamen, um zu sterben. Darum
nannten diess Thal die Hirten: Schlangen-Tod.

Zarathustra aber versank in eine schwarze Erinnerung, denn ihm war,
als habe er schon ein Mal in diesem Thal gestanden. Und vieles Schwere
legte sich ihm über den Sinn: also, dass er langsam gieng und immer
langsamer und endlich still stand. Da aber sahe er, als er die Augen
aufthat, Etwas, das am Wege sass, gestaltet wie ein Mensch und kaum
wie ein Mensch, etwas Unaussprechliches. Und mit Einem Schlage
überfiel Zarathustra die grosse Scham darob, dass er so Etwas mit den
Augen angesehn habe: erröthend bis hinauf an sein weisses Haar, wandte
er den Blick ab und hob den Fuss, dass er diese schlimme Stelle
verlasse. Da aber wurde die todte Öde laut:

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Text Comparison with The Joyful Wisdom Complete Works, Volume Ten

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When, trained in this Christian school of scepticism, we now read the moral books of the ancients, for example those of Seneca and Epictetus, we feel a pleasurable superiority, and are full of secret insight and penetration,--it seems to us as if a child talked before an old man, or a pretty, gushing girl before La Rochefoucauld:--we know better what virtue is! After all, however, we have applied the same scepticism to all _religious_ states and processes, such as sin, repentance, grace, sanctification, &c.
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Page 111
But then the almighty strength of our tasks forced us apart once more into different seas and into different zones, and perhaps we shall never see one another again,--or perhaps we may see one another, but not know one another again; the different seas and suns have altered us! That we had to become strangers to one another is the law to which we are _subject_: just by that shall we become more sacred to one another! Just by that shall the thought of our former friendship become holier! There is probably some immense, invisible curve and stellar orbit in which our courses and goals, so widely different, may be _comprehended_ as small stages of the way,--let us raise ourselves to this thought! But our life is too short, and our power of vision too limited for us to be more than friends in the sense of that sublime possibility.
Page 120
of judging which is most injurious _to knowledge:_ for precisely the good-will of the knowing one ever to declare himself unhesitatingly as _opposed_ to his former opinions, and in general to be distrustful of all that wants to be fixed in him--is here condemned and brought into disrepute.
Page 139
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Page 148
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