6. Ye higher men, think ye that I am here to put right what ye have put wrong? Or that I wished henceforth to make snugger couches for you sufferers? Or show you restless, miswandering, misclimbing ones, new and easier footpaths? Nay! Nay! Three times Nay! Always more, always better ones of your type shall succumb,—for ye shall always have it worse and harder. Thus only— —Thus only groweth man aloft to the height where the lightning striketh and shattereth him: high enough for the lightning! Towards the few, the long, the remote go forth my soul and my seeking: of what account to me are your many little, short miseries! Ye do not yet suffer enough for me! For ye suffer from yourselves, ye have not yet suffered FROM MAN. Ye would lie if ye spake otherwise! None of you suffereth from what _I_ have suffered.—
Loading...