Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 43

men: their eye saith it--they know nothing better
on earth than to lie with a woman.

Filth is at the bottom of their souls; and alas! if their filth hath
still spirit in it!

Would that ye were perfect--at least as animals! But to animals
belongeth innocence.

Do I counsel you to slay your instincts? I counsel you to innocence in
your instincts.

Do I counsel you to chastity? Chastity is a virtue with some, but with
many almost a vice.

These are continent, to be sure: but doggish lust looketh enviously out
of all that they do.

Even into the heights of their virtue and into their cold spirit doth
this creature follow them, with its discord.

And how nicely can doggish lust beg for a piece of spirit, when a piece
of flesh is denied it!

Ye love tragedies and all that breaketh the heart? But I am distrustful
of your doggish lust.

Ye have too cruel eyes, and ye look wantonly towards the sufferers.
Hath not your lust just disguised itself and taken the name of

And also this parable give I unto you: Not a few who meant to cast out
their devil, went thereby into the swine themselves.

To whom chastity is difficult, it is to be dissuaded: lest it become the
road to hell--to filth and lust of soul.

Do I speak of filthy things? That is not the worst thing for me to do.

Not when the truth is filthy, but when it is shallow, doth the
discerning one go unwillingly into its waters.

Verily, there are chaste ones from their very nature; they are gentler
of heart, and laugh better and oftener than you.

They laugh also at chastity, and ask: "What is chastity?

Is chastity not folly? But the folly came unto us, and not we unto it.

We offered that guest harbour and heart: now it dwelleth with us--let it
stay as long as it will!"--

Thus spake Zarathustra.


"One, is always too many about me"--thinketh the anchorite. "Always once
one--that maketh two in the long run!"

I and me are always too earnestly in conversation: how could it be
endured, if there were not a friend?

The friend of the anchorite is always the third one: the third one is
the cork which preventeth the conversation of the two sinking into the

Ah! there are too many depths for all anchorites. Therefore, do they
long so much for a friend, and for his elevation.

Our faith in others betrayeth wherein we would fain have faith in
ourselves. Our longing for a friend is our betrayer.

And often with our love we

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Text Comparison with Ecce Homo Complete Works, Volume Seventeen

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