course will it go upon my feet, mine old Will; hard of heart is its
nature and invulnerable.
Invulnerable am I only in my heel. Ever livest thou there, and art like
thyself, thou most patient one! Ever hast thou burst all shackles of the
In thee still liveth also the unrealisedness of my youth; and as life
and youth sittest thou here hopeful on the yellow ruins of graves.
Yea, thou art still for me the demolisher of all graves: Hail to thee,
my Will! And only where there are graves are there resurrections.--
Thus sang Zarathustra.
"Will to Truth" do ye call it, ye wisest ones, that which impelleth you
and maketh you ardent?
Will for the thinkableness of all being: thus do _I_ call your will!
All being would ye MAKE thinkable: for ye doubt with good reason whether
it be already thinkable.
But it shall accommodate and bend itself to you! So willeth your will.
Smooth shall it become and subject to the spirit, as its mirror and
That is your entire will, ye wisest ones, as a Will to Power; and even
when ye speak of good and evil, and of estimates of value.
Ye would still create a world before which ye can bow the knee: such is
your ultimate hope and ecstasy.
The ignorant, to be sure, the people--they are like a river on which a
boat floateth along: and in the boat sit the estimates of value, solemn
Your will and your valuations have ye put on the river of becoming; it
betrayeth unto me an old Will to Power, what is believed by the people
as good and evil.
It was ye, ye wisest ones, who put such guests in this boat, and gave
them pomp and proud names--ye and your ruling Will!
Onward the river now carrieth your boat: it MUST carry it. A small
matter if the rough wave foameth and angrily resisteth its keel!
It is not the river that is your danger and the end of your good and
evil, ye wisest ones: but that Will itself, the Will to Power--the
unexhausted, procreating life-will.
But that ye may understand my gospel of good and evil, for that purpose
will I tell you my gospel of life, and of the nature of all living
The living thing did I follow; I walked in the broadest and narrowest
paths to learn its nature.
With a hundred-faced mirror did I catch its glance when its mouth was
shut, so that its eye might speak unto me. And its eye spake unto me.
But wherever I found
The dog-star's blinking: what's his need? What tells his blazing sign? In sweat of face (so runs _his_ screed) We're meant to drink our wine! 40.Page 36
This is my special kind of unrighteousness.Page 67
But still there are rarer men who would rather perish than work without _delight_ in their labour: the fastidious people, difficult to satisfy, whose object is not served by an abundant profit, unless the work itself be the reward of all rewards.Page 93
He has twice brought in a poet in it, and twice heaped upon him such an impatient and extreme contempt, that it sounds like a cry,âlike the cry of self-contempt.Page 106
To write in the chancery style, that was to write in court and government style,âthat was regarded as something select compared with the language of the city in which a person lived.Page 118
But even these have their weary hours when a series of venerable words and sounds and a mechanical, pious ritual does them good.Page 140
_âWhat is it that distinguishes the good-natured, whose countenances beam kindness, from other people? They feel quite at ease in presence of a new person, and are quickly enamoured of him; they therefore wish him well; their first opinion is: "He pleases me.Page 150
In truth, we did not notice that we travelled.Page 175
_âI admire the courage and wisdom of Socrates in all that he did, saidâand did not say.Page 215
"Yes, yes, good sir, you are a poet," Chirped out the pecker, mocking me.