Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche, R. J. Hollingdale Read Free Book Online Page B

his own downfall.
    I love him who works and invents that he may build a house for the Superman and prepare earth, animals, and plants for him: for thus he wills his own downfall.
    I love him who loves his virtue: for virtue is will to downfall and an arrow of longing.
    I love him who keeps back no drop of spirit for himself, but wants to be the spirit of his virtue entirely: thus he steps as spirit over the bridge.
    I love him who makes a predilection and a fate of his virtue: thus for his virtue’s sake he will live or not live.
    I love him who does not want too many virtues. One virtue is more virtue than two, because it is more of a knot for fate to cling to.
    I love him whose soul is lavish, who neither wants nor returns thanks: for he always gives and will not preserve himself.
    I love him who is ashamed when the dice fall in his favour and who then asks: Am I then a cheat? – for he wants to perish.
    I love him who throws golden words in advance of his deeds and always performs more than he promised: for he wills his own downfall.
    I love him who justifies the men of the future and redeemsthe men of the past: for he wants to perish by the men of the present.
    I love him who chastises his God because he loves his God: for he must perish by the anger of his God.
    I love him whose soul is deep even in its ability to be wounded, and whom even a little thing can destroy: thus he is glad to go over the bridge.
    I love him whose soul is overfull, so that he forgets himself and all things are in him: thus all things become his downfall.
    I love him who is of a free spirit and a free heart: thus his head is only the bowels of his heart, but his heart drives him to his downfall.
    I love all those who are like heavy drops falling singly from the dark cloud that hangs over mankind: they prophesy the coming of the lightning and as prophets they perish.
    Behold, I am a prophet of the lightning and a heavy drop from the cloud: but this lightning is called Superman .
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    When Zarathustra had spoken these words he looked again at the people and fell silent. There they stand (he said to his heart), there they laugh: they do not understand me, I am not the mouth for these ears.
    Must one first shatter their ears to teach them to hear with their eyes? Must one rumble like drums and Lenten preachers? Or do they believe only those who stammer?
    They have something of which they are proud. What is it called that makes them proud? They call it culture, it distinguishes them from the goatherds.
    Therefore they dislike hearing the word ‘contempt’ spoken of them. So I shall speak to their pride.
    So I shall speak to them of the most contemptible man: and that is the Ultimate man .
    And thus spoke Zarathustra to the people:
    It is time for man to fix his goal. It is time for man to plant the seed of his highest hope.
    His soil is still rich enough for it. But this soil will one day be poor and weak; no longer will a high tree be able to grow from it.
    Alas! The time is coming when man will no more shoot the arrow of his longing out over mankind, and the string of his bow will have forgotten how to twang!
    I tell you: one must have chaos in one, to give birth to a dancing star. I tell you: you still have chaos in you.
    Alas! The time is coming when man will give birth to no more stars. Alas! The time of the most contemptible man is coming, the man who can no longer despise himself.
    Behold! I shall show you the Ultimate Man ,
    ‘What is love? What is creation? What is longing? What is a star?’ thus asks the Ultimate Man and blinks.
    The earth has become small, and upon it hops the Ultimate Man, who makes everything small. His race is as inextermin-able as the flea; the Ultimate Man lives longest.
    ‘We have discovered happiness,’ say the Ultimate Men and blink.
    They have left the places where living was hard: for one needs warmth. One still loves one’s neighbour and rubs oneself against him: for one needs warmth.
    Sickness and