want merely to overleap envy. And often we
attack and make ourselves enemies, to conceal that we are vulnerable.
"Be at least mine enemy!"--thus speaketh the true reverence, which doth
not venture to solicit friendship.
If one would have a friend, then must one also be willing to wage war
for him: and in order to wage war, one must be CAPABLE of being an
One ought still to honour the enemy in one's friend. Canst thou go nigh
unto thy friend, and not go over to him?
In one's friend one shall have one's best enemy. Thou shalt be closest
unto him with thy heart when thou withstandest him.
Thou wouldst wear no raiment before thy friend? It is in honour of thy
friend that thou showest thyself to him as thou art? But he wisheth thee
to the devil on that account!
He who maketh no secret of himself shocketh: so much reason have ye
to fear nakedness! Aye, if ye were Gods, ye could then be ashamed of
Thou canst not adorn thyself fine enough for thy friend; for thou shalt
be unto him an arrow and a longing for the Superman.
Sawest thou ever thy friend asleep--to know how he looketh? What is
usually the countenance of thy friend? It is thine own countenance, in a
coarse and imperfect mirror.
Sawest thou ever thy friend asleep? Wert thou not dismayed at thy friend
looking so? O my friend, man is something that hath to be surpassed.
In divining and keeping silence shall the friend be a master: not
everything must thou wish to see. Thy dream shall disclose unto thee
what thy friend doeth when awake.
Let thy pity be a divining: to know first if thy friend wanteth pity.
Perhaps he loveth in thee the unmoved eye, and the look of eternity.
Let thy pity for thy friend be hid under a hard shell; thou shalt bite
out a tooth upon it. Thus will it have delicacy and sweetness.
Art thou pure air and solitude and bread and medicine to thy friend?
Many a one cannot loosen his own fetters, but is nevertheless his
Art thou a slave? Then thou canst not be a friend. Art thou a tyrant?
Then thou canst not have friends.
Far too long hath there been a slave and a tyrant concealed in woman.
On that account woman is not yet capable of friendship: she knoweth only
In woman's love there is injustice and blindness to all she doth not
love. And even in woman's conscious love, there is still always surprise
and lightning and night,
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