The Portable Nietzsche (Portable Library)

That I may one day be ready and ripe in the great noon: as ready and ripe as glowing bronze, clouds pregnant with lightning, and swelling milk udders— ready for myself and my most hidden will: a bow lusting for its arrow, an arrow lusting for its star—a star ready and ripe in its noon, glowing, pierced, enraptured by annihilating sun arrows—a sun i

Loneliness can be the escape of the sick; loneliness can also be escape from the sick.

My melancholy wants to rest in the hiding-places and abysses of perfection: that is why I need music. But Wagner makes sick.

Can you give yourself your own evil and your own good and hang your own will over yourself as a law?

Only the noblest is altogether hard.

Rather spit on the city gate and turn back. Here is hell for a hermit’s thoughts: here great thoughts are boiled alive and cooked till they are small. Here all great feelings decay: only the smallest rattleboned feelings may rattle here.

The world is deep—and deeper than day had ever been aware. Not everything may be put into words in the presence of the day. But the day is coming, so let us part. O heaven over me, bashful and glowing! O you, my happiness before sunrise! The day is coming, so let us part!

mooncalves;

O my friends, you shall save yourselves; therefore you must pass by much—especially much rabble who raise a din in your ears about the people and about peoples. Keep your eyes undefiled by