Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 78

are the graves
of my youth. Thither will I carry an evergreen wreath of life."

Resolving thus in my heart, did I sail o'er the sea.--

Oh, ye sights and scenes of my youth! Oh, all ye gleams of love, ye
divine fleeting gleams! How could ye perish so soon for me! I think of
you to-day as my dead ones.

From you, my dearest dead ones, cometh unto me a sweet savour,
heart-opening and melting. Verily, it convulseth and openeth the heart
of the lone seafarer.

Still am I the richest and most to be envied--I, the lonesomest one!
For I HAVE POSSESSED you, and ye possess me still. Tell me: to whom hath
there ever fallen such rosy apples from the tree as have fallen unto me?

Still am I your love's heir and heritage, blooming to your memory with
many-hued, wild-growing virtues, O ye dearest ones!

Ah, we were made to remain nigh unto each other, ye kindly strange
marvels; and not like timid birds did ye come to me and my longing--nay,
but as trusting ones to a trusting one!

Yea, made for faithfulness, like me, and for fond eternities, must I now
name you by your faithlessness, ye divine glances and fleeting gleams:
no other name have I yet learnt.

Verily, too early did ye die for me, ye fugitives. Yet did ye not flee
from me, nor did I flee from you: innocent are we to each other in our
faithlessness.

To kill ME, did they strangle you, ye singing birds of my hopes! Yea, at
you, ye dearest ones, did malice ever shoot its arrows--to hit my heart!

And they hit it! Because ye were always my dearest, my possession and my
possessedness: ON THAT ACCOUNT had ye to die young, and far too early!

At my most vulnerable point did they shoot the arrow--namely, at you,
whose skin is like down--or more like the smile that dieth at a glance!

But this word will I say unto mine enemies: What is all manslaughter in
comparison with what ye have done unto me!

Worse evil did ye do unto me than all manslaughter; the irretrievable
did ye take from me:--thus do I speak unto you, mine enemies!

Slew ye not my youth's visions and dearest marvels! My playmates took ye
from me, the blessed spirits! To their memory do I deposit this wreath
and this curse.

This curse upon you, mine enemies! Have ye not made mine eternal short,
as a tone dieth away in a cold night! Scarcely, as the twinkle of divine
eyes, did it come to me--as a

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Text Comparison with The Case Of Wagner, Nietzsche Contra Wagner, and Selected Aphorisms.

Page 0
Preface To The Third Edition The Case Of Wagner: A Musician's Problem Nietzsche _contra_ Wagner Selected Aphorisms from Nietzsche's Retrospect of his Years of Friendship with Wagner.
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e.
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That not going to bed at the right time may be followed by the worst consequences (once again the case of "Lohengrin").
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_This Siegfried does.
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including that which has become so outside the theatre, is in bad taste and spoils taste.
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The elementary factors--sound, movement, colour, in short, the whole sensuousness of music--suffice.
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Is it perhaps that Wagner's music is too difficult to understand? Or did he fear precisely the reverse--that it was too easy,--that people might _not understand it with sufficient difficulty_?--As a matter of fact, his whole life long, he did nothing but repeat one proposition: that his music did not mean music alone! But something more! Something immeasurably more!{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} "_Not music alone_"--_no_ musician would speak in this way.
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The title of this essay is: "What Wagner has cost us.
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and disease are united here, reaches such a height, that it casts so to speak a shadow upon all Wagner's earlier achievements: it seems too bright, too healthy.
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{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Second Postscript It seems to me that my letter is open to some misunderstanding.
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Nothing, however, can cure music as a whole of its chief fault, of its fate, which is to be the expression of general physiological contradiction,--which is, in fact, to be modern.
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In it I thought I heard the earthquake by means of which a primeval life-force, which had been constrained for ages, was seeking at last to burst its bonds, quite indifferent to how much of that which nowadays calls itself culture, would thereby be shaken to ruins.
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{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} As a matter of fact, it was then high time to bid.
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For I had no one save Richard Wagner.
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they now appear, and were perhaps obliged to be: men of the moment, sensuous, absurd, versatile, light-minded and quick to trust and to distrust, with souls in which usually some flaw has to be concealed, often taking revenge with their works for an internal blemish, often seeking forgetfulness in their soaring from a too accurate memory, idealists out of proximity to the mud:--what a _torment_ these great artists are and the so-called higher men in general, to him who has once found them out! We are all special pleaders in the cause of mediocrity.
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"_Tout comprendre c'est tout mepriser.
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16.
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--But in this way the kind of work we are discussing is condemned: not the drama but a moment of it is the result, an arbitrary selection.
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_ 75.
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--_Tr.