Thus Spake Zarathustra Friedrich Nietzsche (best thriller novels of all time .txt) 📖

And oft have I longed to pin them fast with the jagged gold-wires of lightning, that I might, like the thunder, beat the drum upon their kettle-bellies:⁠—

—An angry drummer, because they rob me of thy Yea and Amen!⁠—thou heaven above me, thou pure, thou luminous heaven! Thou abyss of light!⁠—because they rob thee of my Yea and Amen.

For rather will I have noise and thunders and tempest-blasts, than this discreet, doubting cat-repose; and also amongst men do I hate most of all the soft-treaders, and half-and-half ones, and the doubting, hesitating, passing clouds.

And “he who cannot bless shall learn to curse!”⁠—this clear teaching dropt unto me from the clear heaven; this star standeth in my heaven even in dark nights.

I, however, am a blesser and a Yea-sayer, if thou be but around me, thou pure, thou luminous heaven! Thou abyss of light!⁠—into all abysses do I then carry my beneficent Yea-saying.

A blesser have I become and a Yea-sayer: and therefore strove I long and was a striver, that I might one day get my hands free for blessing.

This, however, is my blessing: to stand above everything as its own heaven, its round roof, its azure bell and eternal security: and blessed is he who thus blesseth!

For all things are baptized at the font of eternity, and beyond good and evil; good and evil themselves, however, are but fugitive shadows and damp afflictions and passing clouds.

Verily, it is a blessing and not a blasphemy when I teach that “above all things there standeth the heaven of chance, the heaven of innocence, the heaven of hazard, the heaven of wantonness.”

“Of Hazard”⁠—that is the oldest nobility in the world; that gave I back to all things; I emancipated them from bondage under purpose.

This freedom and celestial serenity did I put like an azure bell above all things, when I taught that over them and through them, no “eternal Will”⁠—willeth.

This wantonness and folly did I put in place of that Will, when I taught that “In everything there is one thing impossible⁠—rationality!”

A little reason, to be sure, a germ of wisdom scattered from star to star⁠—this leaven is mixed in all things: for the sake of folly, wisdom is mixed in all things!

A little wisdom is indeed possible; but this blessed security have I found in all things, that they prefer⁠—to dance on the feet of chance.

O heaven above me! thou pure, thou lofty heaven! This is now thy purity unto me, that there is no eternal reason-spider and reason-cobweb:⁠—

—That thou art to me a dancing-floor for divine chances, that thou art to me a table of the Gods, for divine dice and dice-players!⁠—

But thou blushest? Have I spoken unspeakable things? Have I abused, when I meant to bless thee?

Or is it the shame of being two of us that maketh thee blush!⁠—Dost thou bid me go and be silent, because now⁠—day cometh?

The world is deep:⁠—and deeper than e’er the day could read. Not everything may be uttered in presence of day. But day cometh: so let us part!

O heaven above me, thou modest one! thou glowing one! O thou, my happiness before sunrise! The day cometh: so let us part!⁠—

Thus spake Zarathustra.

When Zarathustra was again on the continent, he did not go straightway to his mountains and his cave, but made many wanderings and questionings, and ascertained this and that; so that he said of himself jestingly: “Lo, a river that floweth back unto its source in many windings!” For he wanted to learn what had taken place among men during the interval: whether they had become greater or smaller. And once, when he saw a row of new houses, he marvelled, and said:

“What do these houses mean? Verily, no great soul put them up as its simile!

“Did perhaps a silly child take them out of its toy-box? Would that another child put them again into the box!

“And these rooms and chambers⁠—can men go out and in there? They seem to be made for silk dolls; or for dainty-eaters, who perhaps let others eat with them.”

And Zarathustra stood still and meditated. At last he said sorrowfully: “There hath everything become smaller!

“Everywhere do I see lower doorways: he who is of my type can still go therethrough, but⁠—he must stoop!

“Oh, when shall I arrive again at my home, where I shall no longer have to stoop⁠—shall no longer have to stoop before the small ones!”⁠—And Zarathustra sighed, and gazed into the distance.⁠—

The same day, however, he gave his discourse on the bedwarfing virtue.

I pass through this people and keep mine eyes open: they do not forgive me for not envying their virtues.

They bite at me, because I say unto them that for small people, small virtues are necessary⁠—and because it is hard for me to understand that small people are necessary!

Here am I still like a cock in a strange farmyard, at which even the hens peck: but on that account I am not unfriendly to the hens.

I am courteous towards them, as towards all small annoyances; to be prickly towards what is small, seemeth to me wisdom for hedgehogs.

They all speak of me when they sit around their fire in the evening⁠—they speak of me, but no one thinketh⁠—of me!

This is the new stillness which I have experienced: their noise around me spreadeth a mantle over my thoughts.

They shout to one another: “What is this gloomy cloud about to do to us? Let us see that it doth not bring a plague upon us!”

And recently did a woman seize upon her child that was coming unto me: “Take the children away,” cried she, “such eyes scorch children’s souls.”

They cough when I speak: they think coughing an objection to strong winds⁠—they divine nothing of the boisterousness of my happiness!

“We have not yet time for Zarathustra”⁠—so they object; but what matter about a time that “hath no time” for Zarathustra?

And if they should altogether praise me, how could I go