Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 56

leave of the town to which his heart was
attached, the name of which is "The Pied Cow," there followed him many
people who called themselves his disciples, and kept him company. Thus
came they to a crossroad. Then Zarathustra told them that he now wanted
to go alone; for he was fond of going alone. His disciples, however,
presented him at his departure with a staff, on the golden handle of
which a serpent twined round the sun. Zarathustra rejoiced on account
of the staff, and supported himself thereon; then spake he thus to his
disciples:

Tell me, pray: how came gold to the highest value? Because it is
uncommon, and unprofiting, and beaming, and soft in lustre; it always
bestoweth itself.

Only as image of the highest virtue came gold to the highest value.
Goldlike, beameth the glance of the bestower. Gold-lustre maketh peace
between moon and sun.

Uncommon is the highest virtue, and unprofiting, beaming is it, and soft
of lustre: a bestowing virtue is the highest virtue.

Verily, I divine you well, my disciples: ye strive like me for the
bestowing virtue. What should ye have in common with cats and wolves?

It is your thirst to become sacrifices and gifts yourselves: and
therefore have ye the thirst to accumulate all riches in your soul.

Insatiably striveth your soul for treasures and jewels, because your
virtue is insatiable in desiring to bestow.

Ye constrain all things to flow towards you and into you, so that they
shall flow back again out of your fountain as the gifts of your love.

Verily, an appropriator of all values must such bestowing love become;
but healthy and holy, call I this selfishness.--

Another selfishness is there, an all-too-poor and hungry kind, which
would always steal--the selfishness of the sick, the sickly selfishness.

With the eye of the thief it looketh upon all that is lustrous; with the
craving of hunger it measureth him who hath abundance; and ever doth it
prowl round the tables of bestowers.

Sickness speaketh in such craving, and invisible degeneration; of a
sickly body, speaketh the larcenous craving of this selfishness.

Tell me, my brother, what do we think bad, and worst of all? Is it not
DEGENERATION?--And we always suspect degeneration when the bestowing
soul is lacking.

Upward goeth our course from genera on to super-genera. But a horror to
us is the degenerating sense, which saith: "All for myself."

Upward soareth our sense: thus is it a simile of our body, a simile of
an elevation. Such similes of elevations are the names of the virtues.

Thus goeth the body through history, a becomer

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Text Comparison with Ecce Homo Complete Works, Volume Seventeen

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the gentleness with which, in Chapter II.
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"It is autumn all around, and clear sky, and afternoon.
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In the midst of the agony of a headache which lasted three days, accompanied by violent nausea, I was possessed of most singular dialectical clearness, and in absolutely cold blood I then thought out things, for which, in my more healthy moments, I am not enough of a climber, not sufficiently subtle, not sufficiently cold.
Page 17
By means of it, I do honour to a thing, I distinguish a thing; whether I associate my name with that of an institution or a person, by being _against_ or _for_ either, is all the same to me.
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Nobody is so constituted as to be able to live everywhere and anywhere; and he who has great duties to perform, which lay claim to all his strength, has, in this respect, a very limited choice.
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I still remained a little doubtful about Heraclitus, in whose presence, alone, I felt warmer and more at ease than anywhere else.
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--Tr.
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I was the first to discover truth, and for the simple reason that I was the first who became conscious of falsehood as falsehood--that is to say, I smelt it as such.
Page 83
In his teaching alone is truthfulness upheld as the highest virtue--that is to say, as the reverse of the cowardice of the "idealist" who takes to his heels at the sight of reality.
Page 90
The hungry vulture valleyward flew screaming.
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Saw thy bright orbs gleam, thy right hand shaking With the mace of thunder hurled amain.
Page 106
A sick man now, Sick of serpent's poison, A captive now Who hast drawn the hardest lot: In thine own shaft Bowed as thou workest, In thine own cavern Digging at thyself, Helpless quite, Stiff, A cold corse Overwhelmed with a hundred burdens, Overburdened by thyself, A knower! A self-knower! The wise Zarathustra!.
Page 107
Watching, Chewing, One that stands upright no more! Thou wilt grow deformed even in thy grave, Deformed spirit! And of late still so proud On all the stilts of thy pride! Of late still the godless hermit, The hermit with one comrade--the devil, The scarlet prince of every devilment!.
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74 Who is there that could bestow right upon thee? So take thy right! 75 O ye waves, Wondrous waves, are ye wroth with me? Do ye raise me your crests in wrath? With my rudder I smite Your folly full square.
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A virtue-monster Mantled in white.