Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 127

them talketh, everything is out-talked. And that which
yesterday was still too hard for time itself and its tooth, hangeth
to-day, outchamped and outchewed, from the mouths of the men of to-day.

Everything among them talketh, everything is betrayed. And what was once
called the secret and secrecy of profound souls, belongeth to-day to the
street-trumpeters and other butterflies.

O human hubbub, thou wonderful thing! Thou noise in dark streets! Now
art thou again behind me:--my greatest danger lieth behind me!

In indulging and pitying lay ever my greatest danger; and all human
hubbub wisheth to be indulged and tolerated.

With suppressed truths, with fool's hand and befooled heart, and rich in
petty lies of pity:--thus have I ever lived among men.

Disguised did I sit amongst them, ready to misjudge MYSELF that I might
endure THEM, and willingly saying to myself: "Thou fool, thou dost not
know men!"

One unlearneth men when one liveth amongst them: there is too much
foreground in all men--what can far-seeing, far-longing eyes do THERE!

And, fool that I was, when they misjudged me, I indulged them on that
account more than myself, being habitually hard on myself, and often
even taking revenge on myself for the indulgence.

Stung all over by poisonous flies, and hollowed like the stone by
many drops of wickedness: thus did I sit among them, and still said to
myself: "Innocent is everything petty of its pettiness!"

Especially did I find those who call themselves "the good," the most
poisonous flies; they sting in all innocence, they lie in all innocence;
how COULD they--be just towards me!

He who liveth amongst the good--pity teacheth him to lie. Pity maketh
stifling air for all free souls. For the stupidity of the good is
unfathomable.

To conceal myself and my riches--THAT did I learn down there: for every
one did I still find poor in spirit. It was the lie of my pity, that I
knew in every one,

--That I saw and scented in every one, what was ENOUGH of spirit for
him, and what was TOO MUCH!

Their stiff wise men: I call them wise, not stiff--thus did I learn to
slur over words.

The grave-diggers dig for themselves diseases. Under old rubbish rest
bad vapours. One should not stir up the marsh. One should live on
mountains.

With blessed nostrils do I again breathe mountain-freedom. Freed at last
is my nose from the smell of all human hubbub!

With sharp breezes tickled, as with sparkling wine, SNEEZETH my soul--
sneezeth, and shouteth self-congratulatingly: "Health to thee!"

Thus spake Zarathustra.




LIV. THE THREE EVIL THINGS.

1.

In my dream, in my last morning-dream, I stood

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XXIV.
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The just, however, are fervour and fuel!" The hour when ye say: "What good is my pity! Is not pity the cross on which he is nailed who loveth man? But my pity is not a crucifixion.
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Much of the prison and the mould still remaineth in him: pure hath his eye still to become.
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my brother, the word "disdain"? And the anguish of thy justice in being just to those that disdain thee? Thou forcest many to think differently about thee; that, charge they heavily to thine account.
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And others are there who are drawn downwards: their devils draw them.
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" And again there are those who love attitudes, and think that virtue is a sort of attitude.
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How divinely do vault and arch here contrast in the struggle: how with light and shade they strive against each other, the divinely striving ones.
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XLI.
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Ah, my hardest path must I ascend! Ah, I have begun my lonesomest wandering! He, however, who is of my nature doth not avoid such an hour: the hour that saith unto him: Now only dost thou go the way to thy greatness! Summit and abyss--these are now comprised together! Thou goest the way to thy greatness: now hath it become thy last refuge, what was hitherto thy last danger! Thou goest the way to thy greatness: it must now be thy best courage that there is no longer any path behind thee! Thou goest the way to thy greatness: here shall no one steal after thee! Thy foot itself hath effaced the path behind thee, and over it standeth written: Impossibility.
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And for his sake and for those like him, must I perfect MYSELF: therefore do I now avoid my happiness, and present myself to every misfortune--for MY final testing and recognition.
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There is here also much piety, and much faithful spittle-licking and spittle-backing, before the God of Hosts.
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"-- Such ancient babbling still passeth for "wisdom"; because it is old, however, and smelleth mustily, THEREFORE is it the more honoured.
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of my whip shalt thou dance and cry! I forget not my whip?--Not I!"-- 2.
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Zarathustra sympathetically, and held him fast; "thou art mistaken.
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Speak finally! Thou lightning-veiled one! Thou unknown one! Speak! What wilt thou, highway-ambusher, from--ME? What WILT thou, unfamiliar--God? What? Ransom-gold? How much of ransom-gold? Solicit much--that bid'th my pride! And be concise--that bid'th mine other pride! Ha! Ha! ME--wantst thou? me? --Entire?.
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But the old magician kept silence for a while; then said he: "Did I put thee to the test? I--seek only.
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But behold, here it was a cloud of love, and showered upon a new friend.
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Nietzsche, however, was evidently not so confident about this.
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