Thoughts Out of Season, Part II

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 120

secret instinct made them fly from the actual sciences
and found a dim kingdom amid their gaps and uncertainties. They "led
the way" in the sciences in the sense that the quarry "leads the way"
for the hunters who are behind him. Recently they have amused
themselves with asserting they are merely the watchers on the
frontier of the sciences. The Kantian doctrine is of use to them
here, and they industriously build up an empty scepticism on it, of
which in a short time nobody will take any more notice. Here and
there one will rise to a little metaphysic of his own, with the
general accompaniment of headaches and giddiness and bleeding at the
nose. After the usual ill-success of their voyages into the clouds
and the mist, some hard-headed young student of the real sciences
will pluck them down by the skirts, and their faces will assume the
expression now habitual to them, of offended dignity at being found
out. They have lost their happy confidence, and not one of them will
venture a step further for the sake of his philosophy. Some used to
believe they could find out new religions or reinstate old ones by
their systems. They have given up such pretensions now, and have
become mostly mild, muddled folk, with no Lucretian boldness, but
merely some spiteful complaints of the "dead weight that lies on the
intellects of mankind"! No one can even learn logic from them now,
and their obvious knowledge of their own powers has made them
discontinue the dialectical disputations common in the old days.
There is much more care and modesty, logic and inventiveness, in a
word, more philosophical method in the work of the special sciences
than in the so-called "philosophy," and every one will agree with the
temperate words of Bagehot[2] on the present system builders:
"Unproved abstract principles without number have been eagerly caught
up by sanguine men, and then carefully spun out into books and
theories, which were to explain the whole world. But the world goes
clear against these abstractions, and it must do so, as they require
it to go in antagonistic directions. The mass of a system attracts
the young and impresses the unwary; but cultivated people are very
dubious about it. They are ready to receive hints and suggestions,
and the smallest real truth is ever welcome. But a large book of
deductive philosophy is much to be suspected. Who is not almost sure
beforehand that the premises will contain a strange mixture of truth
and error, and therefore that it will not be worth while to spend

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Text Comparison with The Joyful Wisdom Complete Works, Volume Ten

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_Star Morality_[4] Foredoomed to spaces vast and far, What matters darkness to the star? Roll calmly on, let time go by, Let sorrows pass thee--nations die! Compassion would but dim the light That distant worlds will gladly sight.
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Life _should_ beloved, _for_.
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But still there are rarer men who would rather perish than work without _delight_ in their labour: the fastidious people, difficult to satisfy, whose object is not served by an abundant profit, unless the work itself be the reward of all rewards.
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There is no paternal love among them, but there is such a thing as love of the children of a beloved, and habituation to them.
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is no chance: for it is only where there is a world of design that the word "chance" has a meaning.
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Page 139
--That from which we suffer most profoundly and personally is almost incomprehensible and inaccessible to every one else: in this matter we are hidden from our neighbour even when he eats at the same table with us.
Page 140
which the compassionate person plays the rôle of fate: he knows nothing of all the inner consequences and complications which are called misfortune for _me_ or for _you!_ The entire economy of my soul and its adjustment by "misfortune," the uprising of new sources and needs, the closing up of old wounds, the repudiation of whole periods of the past--none of these things which may be connected with misfortune preoccupy the dear sympathiser.
Page 146
But what I have in view will now be understood, namely, that it is always a _metaphysical belief_ on which our belief in science rests,--and that even we knowing ones of to-day, landless and anti-metaphysical, still take _our_ fire from the conflagration kindled by a belief a millennium old, the Christian belief, which was also the belief of Plato, that God is truth, that the truth is divine.
Page 148
A morality could even have grown _out of_ an error: but with this knowledge the problem of its worth would not even be touched.
Page 157
Granted that this observation is correct, I may proceed further to the conjecture that _consciousness generally has only been developed under the pressure of the necessity for communication,_--that from the first it has been necessary and useful only between man and man (especially between those commanding and those obeying) and has only developed in proportion to its utility Consciousness is properly only a connecting network between man and man,--it is only as such that it has had to develop; the recluse and wild-beast species of men would not have needed it The very fact that our actions, thoughts, feelings and motions come within the range of our consciousness--at least a part of them--is the result of a terrible, prolonged "must" ruling man's destiny: as the most endangered animal he _needed_ help and protection; he needed his fellows, he was obliged to express his distress, he had to know how to make himself understood--and for all this he needed "consciousness" first of all: he had to "know" himself what he lacked, to "know" how he felt, and to "know" what he thought.
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music as the expression of a Dionysian power in the German soul: I thought I heard in it the earthquake by means of which a primeval force that had been imprisoned for ages was finally finding vent--indifferent as to whether all that usually calls itself culture was thereby made to totter.
Page 187
" A distinguished intellect and taste, when it wants to communicate its thoughts, always selects its hearers; by selecting them, it at the same time closes its barriers against "the others.
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_---But while I slowly, slowly finish the painting of this sombre interrogation-mark, and am still inclined to remind my readers of the virtues of right reading--oh, what forgotten and unknown virtues--it comes to pass that the wickedest, merriest, gnome-like laughter resounds around me: the spirits of my book themselves pounce upon me, pull me by the ears, and call me to order.
Page 193
the South! For I could no longer stay, To crawl in slow German way; So I called to the birds, bade the wind Lift me up and bear me away To the South! No reasons for me, if you please; Their end is too dull and too plain; But a pair of wings and a breeze, With courage and health and ease, And games that chase disease From the South! Wise thoughts can move without sound,-But I've songs that I can't sing alone; So birdies, pray gather around, And listen to what I have found In the South! .
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the swell We had slumbered, oh, so well! AN AVOWAL OF LOVE (_during which, however, the poet fell into a pit_).
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Those who come must move as; quickly As the wind--we'll have no sickly, Crippled, withered, in our crew.