The Genealogy of Morals The Complete Works, Volume Thirteen, edited by Dr. Oscar Levy.

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 115

the blockhead
elements in the populace (the invariable success of _every_ kind of
intellectual charlatanism in present-day Germany hangs together with
the almost indisputable and already quite palpable desolation of the
German mind, whose cause I look for in a too exclusive diet, of papers,
politics, beer, and Wagnerian music, not forgetting the condition
precedent of this diet, the national exclusiveness and vanity, the
strong but narrow principle, "Germany, Germany above everything,"[7]
and finally the _paralysis agitans_ of "modern ideas"). Europe
nowadays is, above all, wealthy and ingenious in means of excitement;
it apparently has no more crying necessity than _stimulantia_ and
alcohol. Hence the enormous counterfeiting of ideals, those most fiery
spirits of the mind; hence too the repulsive, evil-smelling, perjured,
pseudo–alcoholic air everywhere. I should like to know how many cargoes
of imitation idealism, of hero-costumes and high falutin' clap-trap,
how many casks of sweetened pity liqueur (Firm: _la religion de la
souffrance_), how many crutches of righteous indignation for the help
of these flat-footed intellects, how many _comedians_ of the Christian
moral ideal would need to-day to be exported from Europe, to enable
its air to smell pure again. It is obvious that, in regard to this
over-production, a new _trade_ possibility lies open; it is obvious
that there is a new business to be done in little ideal idols and
obedient "idealists"--don't pass over this tip! Who has sufficient
courage? We have in _our hands_ the possibility of idealising the whole
earth. But what am I talking about courage? we only need one thing
here--a hand, a free, a very free hand.


Enough! enough! let us leave these curiosities and complexities of
the modern spirit, which excite as much laughter as disgust. Our
problem can certainly do without them, the problem of _meaning_ of
the ascetic ideal--what has it got to do with yesterday or to-day?
those things shall be handled by me more thoroughly and severely in
another connection (under the title "A Contribution to the History of
European Nihilism," I refer for this to a work which I am preparing:
_The Will to Power, an Attempt at a Transvaluation of All Values_).
The only reason why I come to allude to it here is this: the ascetic
ideal has at times, even in the most intellectual sphere, only one
real kind of enemies and _damagers_: these are the comedians of this
ideal--for they awake mistrust. Everywhere otherwise, where the mind
is at work seriously, powerfully, and without counterfeiting, it
dispenses altogether now with an ideal (the popular expression for this
abstinence is "Atheism")--_with the exception of the will for truth_.
But this will, this _remnant_

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Text Comparison with Ecce Homo Complete Works, Volume Seventeen

Page 11
But my mother, Franziska Oehler, is at any rate something very German; as is also my paternal grandmother, Erdmuthe Krause.
Page 13
Page 19
"My heart, whereon my summer burneth, my short, hot, melancholy, over-blessed summer: how my summer heart yearneth for thy coolness! "Farewell, the lingering affliction of my spring! Past is the wickedness of my snowflakes in June! Summer have I become entirely, and summer noontide! "A summer in the loftiest heights, with cold springs and blessed stillness: oh come, my friends, that the stillness may wax even more blessed! "For this is our height and our home: too high and steep is our dwelling for all the unclean and their appetites.
Page 33
The whole surface of consciousness--for consciousness _is_ a surface--must be kept free from any one of the great imperatives.
Page 34
I do not reckon the so-called "first" men even as human beings--for me they are the excrements of mankind, the products of disease and of the instinct of revenge: they are so many monsters laden with rottenness, so many hopeless incurables, who avenge themselves on life.
Page 37
Page 38
Is it possible that the _National-Zeitung_--a Prussian paper (this comment is for the sake of my foreign readers--for my own part, I beg to state, I read only _Le Journal des Débats_)--really and seriously regarded the book as a "sign of the times," or a genuine and typical example of Tory philosophy,[1] for which the _Kreuz-Zeitung_ had not sufficient courage?.
Page 45
"Reason" _versus_ Instinct.
Page 46
Page 48
Listen to the world-historic accent with which the concept "sense for the tragic" is introduced on page 180: there are little else but world-historic accents in this essay.
Page 55
It was at that time, too, that I first divined the relation between an instinctively repulsive occupation, a so-called vocation, which is the last thing to which one is "called" and that need of lulling a feeling of emptiness and hunger, by means of an art which is a narcotic--by means of Wagner's art, for instance.
Page 76
--From what do I suffer when I suffer from the fate of music? From the fact that music has lost its world-transfiguring, yea-saying character--that it is decadent music and no longer the flute of Dionysus.
Page 80
In vain have I sought among them for a sign of tact and delicacy towards myself.
Page 87
Time is reckoned up before him.
Page 89
Thus oft thou saw'st me,--yesterday, at least,-- Full in the morning sun and its hot beaming, While, visioning the carrion of his feast, .
Page 90
Yet didst thou err, foul bird, albeit I, So like a mummy 'gainst my log lay leaning! Thou couldst not see these eyes whose ecstasy Rolled hither, thither, proud and overweening.
Page 94
'Tis Autumn:--Autumn yet shall break thy heart! Fly away! fly away! O fruit of the tree, Thou tremblest, fallest? What secret whispered unto thee The Night, That icy shudders deck thy cheek, Thy cheek of purple hue? Silent art thou, nor dost reply-- Who speaketh still?-- 'Tis Autumn:--Autumn yet shall break thy heart! Fly away! fly away!-- "I am not fair,"-- So speaks the lone star-flower,-- "Yet men I love And comfort men-- Many flowers shall they behold, And stoop to me, And break me, ah!-- So that within their eyes shall gleam Remembrance swift, _Remembrance of far fairer things than I_:-- I see it--see it--and I perish so.
Page 108
Page 110
So in storm breaks forth The flaming curse of Zarathustra's wrath.
Page 118
86 Upright he stands With more sense of "justice" In his outermost toe Than I have in all my head.