Thus Spake Zarathustra — Friedrich Nietzsche

Thus Spake Zarathustra

Friedrich Nietzsche · License: Public domain · Source

• And fain would they thereby prove themselves reconcilers: but mediaries and mixers are they unto me, and half-and-half, and impure!-- ¶1660
• Ah, I cast indeed my net into their sea, and meant to catch good fish; but always did I draw up the head of some ancient God. ¶1661
• Thus did the sea give a stone to the hungry one. And they themselves may well originate from the sea. ¶1662
• Certainly, one findeth pearls in them: thereby they are the more like hard molluscs. And instead of a soul, I have often found in them salt slime. ¶1663
• They have learned from the sea also its vanity: is not the sea the peacock of peacocks? ¶1664
• Even before the ugliest of all buffaloes doth it spread out its tail; never doth it tire of its lace-fan of silver and silk. ¶1665
• Disdainfully doth the buffalo glance thereat, nigh to the sand with its soul, nigher still to the thicket, nighest, however, to the swamp. ¶1666
• What is beauty and sea and peacock-splendour to it! This parable I speak unto the poets. ¶1667
• Verily, their spirit itself is the peacock of peacocks, and a sea of vanity! ¶1668
• Spectators, seeketh the spirit of the poet--should they even be buffaloes!-- ¶1669
• But of this spirit became I weary; and I see the time coming when it will become weary of itself. ¶1670
• Yea, changed have I seen the poets, and their glance turned towards themselves. ¶1671
• Penitents of the spirit have I seen appearing; they grew out of the poets.-- ¶1672
• "Behold!" said the old helmsman, "there goeth Zarathustra to hell!" ¶1677
• About the same time that these sailors landed on the fire-isle, there was a rumour that Zarathustra had disappeared; and when his friends were asked about it, they said that he had gone on board a ship by night, without saying whither he was going. ¶1678
• And this is the account of Zarathustra's interview with the fire-dog: ¶1680
• The earth, said he, hath a skin; and this skin hath diseases. One of these diseases, for example, is called "man." ¶1681
• And another of these diseases is called "the fire-dog": concerning HIM men have greatly deceived themselves, and let themselves be deceived. ¶1682
• To fathom this mystery did I go o'er the sea; and I have seen the truth naked, verily! barefooted up to the neck. ¶1683
• Now do I know how it is concerning the fire-dog; and likewise concerning all the spouting and subversive devils, of which not only old women are afraid. ¶1684
• "Up with thee, fire-dog, out of thy depth!" cried I, "and confess how deep that depth is! Whence cometh that which thou snortest up? ¶1685
• Thou drinkest copiously at the sea: that doth thine embittered eloquence betray! In sooth, for a dog of the depth, thou takest thy nourishment too much from the surface! ¶1686
• At the most, I regard thee as the ventriloquist of the earth: and ever, when I have heard subversive and spouting devils speak, I have found them like thee: embittered, mendacious, and shallow. ¶1687
• Ye understand how to roar and obscure with ashes! Ye are the best braggarts, and have sufficiently learned the art of making dregs boil. ¶1688
• Where ye are, there must always be dregs at hand, and much that is spongy, hollow, and compressed: it wanteth to have freedom. ¶1689
• 'Freedom' ye all roar most eagerly: but I have unlearned the belief in 'great events,' when there is much roaring and smoke about them. ¶1690
• And believe me, friend Hullabaloo! The greatest events--are not our noisiest, but our stillest hours. ¶1691
• Not around the inventors of new noise, but around the inventors of new values, doth the world revolve; INAUDIBLY it revolveth. ¶1692
• And just own to it! Little had ever taken place when thy noise and smoke passed away. What, if a city did become a mummy, and a statue lay in the mud! ¶1693
• And this do I say also to the o'erthrowers of statues: It is certainly the greatest folly to throw salt into the sea, and statues into the mud. ¶1694
• In the mud of your contempt lay the statue: but it is just its law, that out of contempt, its life and living beauty grow again! ¶1695
• With diviner features doth it now arise, seducing by its suffering; and verily! it will yet thank you for o'erthrowing it, ye subverters! ¶1696
• This counsel, however, do I counsel to kings and churches, and to all that is weak with age or virtue--let yourselves be o'erthrown! That ye may again come to life, and that virtue--may come to you!--" ¶1697
• Thus spake I before the fire-dog: then did he interrupt me sullenly, and asked: "Church? What is that?" ¶1698
• "Church?" answered I, "that is a kind of state, and indeed the most mendacious. But remain quiet, thou dissembling dog! Thou surely knowest thine own species best! ¶1699
• Like thyself the state is a dissembling dog; like thee doth it like to speak with smoke and roaring--to make believe, like thee, that it speaketh out of the heart of things. ¶1700
• For it seeketh by all means to be the most important creature on earth, the state; and people think it so." ¶1701
• When I had said this, the fire-dog acted as if mad with envy. "What!" cried he, "the most important creature on earth? And people think it so?" And so much vapour and terrible voices came out of his throat, that I thought he would choke with vexation and envy. ¶1702
• At last he became calmer and his panting subsided; as soon, however, as he was quiet, I said laughingly: ¶1703
• "Thou art angry, fire-dog: so I am in the right about thee! ¶1704

BackNext →Books of sayings