Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 51

happiness of man is, "I will." The happiness of woman is, "He will."

"Lo! now hath the world become perfect!"--thus thinketh every woman when
she obeyeth with all her love.

Obey, must the woman, and find a depth for her surface. Surface, is
woman's soul, a mobile, stormy film on shallow water.

Man's soul, however, is deep, its current gusheth in subterranean
caverns: woman surmiseth its force, but comprehendeth it not.--

Then answered me the old woman: "Many fine things hath Zarathustra said,
especially for those who are young enough for them.

Strange! Zarathustra knoweth little about woman, and yet he is right
about them! Doth this happen, because with women nothing is impossible?

And now accept a little truth by way of thanks! I am old enough for it!

Swaddle it up and hold its mouth: otherwise it will scream too loudly,
the little truth."

"Give me, woman, thy little truth!" said I. And thus spake the old

"Thou goest to women? Do not forget thy whip!"--

Thus spake Zarathustra.


One day had Zarathustra fallen asleep under a fig-tree, owing to the
heat, with his arms over his face. And there came an adder and bit him
in the neck, so that Zarathustra screamed with pain. When he had
taken his arm from his face he looked at the serpent; and then did it
recognise the eyes of Zarathustra, wriggled awkwardly, and tried to get
away. "Not at all," said Zarathustra, "as yet hast thou not received
my thanks! Thou hast awakened me in time; my journey is yet long."
"Thy journey is short," said the adder sadly; "my poison is fatal."
Zarathustra smiled. "When did ever a dragon die of a serpent's
poison?"--said he. "But take thy poison back! Thou art not rich enough
to present it to me." Then fell the adder again on his neck, and licked
his wound.

When Zarathustra once told this to his disciples they asked him:
"And what, O Zarathustra, is the moral of thy story?" And Zarathustra
answered them thus:

The destroyer of morality, the good and just call me: my story is

When, however, ye have an enemy, then return him not good for evil: for
that would abash him. But prove that he hath done something good to you.

And rather be angry than abash any one! And when ye are cursed, it
pleaseth me not that ye should then desire to bless. Rather curse a
little also!

And should a great injustice befall you, then do quickly five small ones
besides. Hideous to behold is he on whom injustice presseth alone.

Did ye

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Text Comparison with Thoughts Out of Season, Part II

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We would serve history only so far as it serves life; but to value its study beyond a certain point mutilates and degrades life: and this is a fact that certain marked symptoms of our time make it as necessary as it may be painful to bring to the test of experience.
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"History," he says, "is useful for one purpose, if studied in detail: that men may know, as the greatest and best spirits of our generation do not know, the accidental nature of the forms in which they see and insist on others seeing,--insist, I say, because their consciousness of them is exceptionally intense.
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mortal brains! Through the brains of sick and short-lived beasts that ever rise to the surface to breathe, and painfully keep off annihilation for a little space.
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For they do not want greatness, to arise: their method is to say, "See, the great thing is already here!" In reality they care as little about the great thing that is already here, as that which is about to arise: their lives are evidence of that.
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What remains but to turn his quickened hatred against the ban, strike at the barrier raised by the so-called culture, and condemn as judge what blasted and degraded him as a living man and a source of life? He takes a profound insight into fate in exchange for the godlike desire of creation and help, and ends his days as a lonely philosopher, with the wisdom of disillusion.
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For truth is his aim, not in the form of cold intellectual knowledge, but the truth of the judge who punishes according to law; not as the selfish possession of an individual, but the sacred authority that removes the boundary stones from all selfish possessions; truth, in a word, as the tribunal of the world, and not as the chance prey of a single hunter.
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Page 51
But the world must go forward, the ideal condition cannot be won by dreaming, it must be fought and wrestled for, and the way to redemption lies only through joyousness, the way to redemption from that dull, owlish seriousness.
Page 61
And here I see the mission of the youth that forms the first generation of fighters and dragon-slayers: it will bring a more beautiful and blessed humanity and culture, but will have itself no more than a glimpse of the promised land of happiness and wondrous beauty.
Page 64
And though one be right in saying of a sluggard that he is "killing time," yet in respect of an age that rests its salvation on public opinion,--that is, on private laziness,--one must be quite determined that such a time shall be "killed," once and for all: I mean that it shall be blotted from life's true History of Liberty.
Page 67
On the other hand, where do we find such a blending of harmonious voices--nay, the soul of harmony itself--as we see in natures like Cellini's, where everything--knowledge, desire, love and hate--tends towards a single point, the root of all, and a harmonious system, the resultant of the various forces, is built up through the irresistible domination of this vital centre? And so perhaps the two maxims are not contrary at all; the one merely saying that man must have a centre, the other, a circumference as well.
Page 85
They think more exclusively of themselves than men ever thought before; they plant and build for their little day, and the chase for happiness is never greater than when the quarry must be caught to-day or to-morrow: the next day perhaps there is no more hunting.
Page 88
They are tempted to cry out to such a man, in Faust's words to Mephistopheles:-- "So to the active and eternal Creative force, in cold disdain You now oppose the fist infernal"-- and he who would live according to Schopenhauer would seem to be more like a Mephistopheles than a Faust--that is, to our weak modern eyes, which always discover signs of malice in any negation.
Page 92
With regard to such objections, I will admit that our work has hardly begun, and so far as I know, I only see one thing clearly and definitely--that it is possible for that ideal picture to provide you and me with a chain of duties that may be accomplished; and some of us already feel its pressure.
Page 94
But we feel as well that we are too weak to endure long those intimate moments, and that we are not the men to whom universal nature looks as her redeemers.
Page 102
Education means now the concealment of man's misery and wickedness, his wild-beast quarrels, his eternal greed, his shamelessness in fruition.
Page 104
Everything new means something to be unlearnt, and your downright man will respect the ancient dogmas and accuse the new evangelist of failing in the _sensus recti_.
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A new degree of culture would instantly revolutionise the entire system of human pursuits.