Thus sighed the soothsayer; with his last sigh, however, Zarathustra again became serene and assured, like one who hath come out of a deep chasm into the light. "Nay! Nay! Three times Nay!" exclaimed he with a strong voice, and stroked his beard--"THAT do I know better! There are still Happy Isles! Silence THEREON, thou sighing sorrow-sack!
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