Of all that is written, I love only what a man hath written with his blood

Of all that is written, I love only what a man hath written with his blood. Write with blood, and thou wilt find that blood is spirit.

It is no easy task to understand unfamiliar blood: I hate the reading idlers.

He who knoweth the reader, doeth nothing more for the reader. Another century of readers, and spirit itself will stink.

That every one can learn to read will ruin in the long run not only writing but thinking too.

Once spirit was God, then it became man, and now it even becometh rabble.

He who writeth in blood and proverbs doth not want to be read, but learnt by heart.

In the mountains the shortest way is from peak to peak; but for that thou must have long legs. Proverbs should be peaks: and those to whom they are spoken, big and tall.

The air rare and pure, danger near, and the spirit full of a joyful wickedness: these things suit one another well.

I want to have goblins about me, for I am courageous. Courage, which scareth away ghosts, createth for itself goblins: courage wanteth to laugh.

I no longer feel in common with you: this very cloud which I see beneath me, this blackness and heaviness at which I laugh, that is your thunder-cloud.

Ye look aloft when ye long for exaltation. And I look downward because I am exalted.

Who among you can at the same time laugh and be exalted?

He who climbeth on the highest mountains laugheth at all tragic plays and tragic realities.

Courageous, unconcerned, scornful, coercive: so wisdom wisheth us; she is a woman, and ever loveth only a warrior.

Ye tell me: "Life is hard to bear." But for what purpose should ye have your pride in the morning and your resignation in the evening?

Life is hard to bear; but do not affect to be so tender! We are all of us pretty load-bearing asses and ass-mares.

Friedrich Nietzsche. Thus Spoke Zarathustra