Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 41

who
represent them: those representers, the people call great men.

Little do the people understand what is great--that is to say, the
creating agency. But they have a taste for all representers and actors
of great things.

Around the devisers of new values revolveth the world:--invisibly it
revolveth. But around the actors revolve the people and the glory: such
is the course of things.

Spirit, hath the actor, but little conscience of the spirit. He
believeth always in that wherewith he maketh believe most strongly--in
HIMSELF!

Tomorrow he hath a new belief, and the day after, one still newer. Sharp
perceptions hath he, like the people, and changeable humours.

To upset--that meaneth with him to prove. To drive mad--that meaneth
with him to convince. And blood is counted by him as the best of all
arguments.

A truth which only glideth into fine ears, he calleth falsehood and
trumpery. Verily, he believeth only in Gods that make a great noise in
the world!

Full of clattering buffoons is the market-place,--and the people glory
in their great men! These are for them the masters of the hour.

But the hour presseth them; so they press thee. And also from thee
they want Yea or Nay. Alas! thou wouldst set thy chair betwixt For and
Against?

On account of those absolute and impatient ones, be not jealous, thou
lover of truth! Never yet did truth cling to the arm of an absolute one.

On account of those abrupt ones, return into thy security: only in the
market-place is one assailed by Yea? or Nay?

Slow is the experience of all deep fountains: long have they to wait
until they know WHAT hath fallen into their depths.

Away from the market-place and from fame taketh place all that is great:
away from the market-Place and from fame have ever dwelt the devisers of
new values.

Flee, my friend, into thy solitude: I see thee stung all over by the
poisonous flies. Flee thither, where a rough, strong breeze bloweth!

Flee into thy solitude! Thou hast lived too closely to the small and the
pitiable. Flee from their invisible vengeance! Towards thee they have
nothing but vengeance.

Raise no longer an arm against them! Innumerable are they, and it is not
thy lot to be a fly-flap.

Innumerable are the small and pitiable ones; and of many a proud
structure, rain-drops and weeds have been the ruin.

Thou art not stone; but already hast thou become hollow by the numerous
drops. Thou wilt yet break and burst by the numerous drops.

Exhausted I see thee, by poisonous flies; bleeding I see thee, and torn
at a hundred spots; and

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