Human, All-Too-Human
Man Alone With Himself
by Friedrich Nietzsche
Published 1878
Translation by Helen Zimmern
Published 1909-191
483
Enemies of truth . Convictions are more dangerous enemies of truth
than lies.
484
Topsy-turvy world . We criticize a thinker more sharply when he
proposes a tenet that is disagreeable to us; and yet it would be
more reasonable to do this when we find his tenet agreeable.
485
A person of character . It is much more common for a person to
appear to have character because he always acts in accord with his
temperament, rather than because he always acts in accord with his
principles.
486
The one necessary thing . A person must have one or the other.
either a disposition which is easygoing by nature, or else a dis-position
eased by art and knowledge.
487
Passion for things . He who directs his passion to things (the
sciences, the national good, cultural interests, the arts) takes'.",
much of the fire out of his passion for people (even when they represent
those things, as statesmen, philosophers, and artier represent their
creations).
488
Calm in action . As a waterfall becomes slower and more floating
as it plunges, so the great man of action will act with greater
calm than could be expected from his violent desire before the deed.
489
Not too deep . People who comprehend a matter in all its depth
seldom remain true to it forever. For they have brought its depths
to the light; and then there is always much to see about it that
is bad.
490
Idealists' delusion . All idealists imagine that the causes they
serve are significantly better than the other causes in the world;
they do not want to believe that if their cause is to flourish at
all, it needs exactly the same foul-smelling manure that all other
human undertakings require.
491
Self-observation . Man is very well defended against himself, against
his own spying and sieges; usually he is able to make out no more
of himself than his outer fortifications. The actual stronghold
is inaccessible to him, even invisible, unless friends and enemies
turn traitor and lead him there by a secret path.
492
The right profession . Men seldom endure a profession if they do
not believe or persuade themselves that it is basically more important
than all others. Women do the same with their lovers.
493
Nobility of mind . To a great degree, nobility of mind consists
of good nature and lack of distrust, and thus contains precisely
that which acquisitive and successful people so like to treat with
superiority and scorn.
494
Destination and paths . Many people are obstinate about the path
once it is taken, few people about the destination.
495
The infuriating thing about an individual way of living . People
are always angry at anyone who chooses very individual standards
for his life; because of the extraordinary treatment which that
man grants to himself, they feel degraded, like ordinary beings.
496
Privilege of greatness . It is the privilege of greatness to grant
supreme pleasure through trifling gifts.
497
Unwittingly noble . A man's behavior is unwittingly noble if he
has grown accustomed never to want anything from men, and always
to give to them.
498
Condition for being a hero . If a man wants to become a hero, the
snake must first become a dragon: otherwise he is lacking his proper
enemy. 1
499
Friend. Shared joy, not compassion,2 makes a friend.
500
Using high and low tides . For the purpose of knowledge, one must
know how to use that inner current that draws us to a thing, and
then the one that, after a time, draws us away from it.
501
Delight in oneself .3 "Delight in an enterprise," they
say; but in truth it is delight in oneself, by means of an enterprise.
502
The modest one . He who is modest with people shows his arrogance
all the more with things (the city, state, society, epoch, or mankind).
That is his revenge.
503
Envy and jealousy . Envy and jealousy are the pudenda of the human
soul. The comparison can perhaps be pursued further.
504
The most refined hypocrite . To speak about oneself not at all
is a very refined form of hypocrisy.
505
Annoyance. Annoyance is a physical illness that is by no means
ended simply by eliminating the cause of the annoyance.
506
Representatives of truth . The champions of truth are hardest to
find, not when it is dangerous to tell it, but rather when it is
boring.
507
More troublesome than enemies style='font-size:. When some reason
(e.g., gratitude) obliges us to maintain the appearance of unqualified
congeniality with people about whose own congenial behavior we are
not entirely convinced, these people torment our imagination much
more than do our enemies.
508
Out in nature . We like to be out in nature so much because it
has no opinion about us.
509
Everyone superior in one thing . In civilized circumstances, everyone
feels superior to everyone else in at least one way; this is the
basis of the general goodwill, inasmuch as everyone is some
one who, under certain conditions, can be of help, and need therefore
feel no shame in allowing himself to be helped.
510
Reasons for consolation . When someone dies, we usually need reasons
to be consoled, not so much to soften the force of our pain, as
to excuse the fact that we feel consoled so easily.
511
Loyal to their convictions . The man who has a lot to do usually
keeps his general views and opinions almost unchanged; as does each
person who works in the service of an idea. He will never test the
idea itself any more; he no longer has time for that. Indeed, it
is contrary to his interest even to think it possible to discuss
it.
512
Morality and quantity . One man's greater morality, in contrast
to another's, often lies only in the fact that his goals are quantitatively
larger. The other man is pulled down by occupying himself with small
things, in a narrow sphere.
513
Life as the product of life . However far man may extend himself
with his knowledge, however objective he may appear to himself-ultimately
he reaps nothing but his own biography.
514
Iron necessity . Over the course of history, men learn that iron
necessity is neither iron nor necessary.
515
From experience . That something is irrational is no argument against
its existence, but rather a condition for it.
516
Truth. No one dies of fatal truths nowadays: there are too many
antidotes.
517
Basic insight . There is no pre-established harmony4 between the
furthering of truth and the good of mankind.
518
Human lot . Whoever thinks more deeply knows that he is always
wrong, whatever his acts and judgments.
519
Truth as Circe . Error has turned animals into men; might truth
be capable of turning man into an animal again?
520
Danger of our culture . We belong to a time in which culture is
in danger of being destroyed by the means of culture.
521
Greatness means: to give a direction . No river is great and bounteous
through itself alone, but rather because it takes up so many tributaries
and carries them onwards: that makes it great. It is the same with
all great minds. All that matters is that one man give the direction,
which the many tributaries must then follow; it does not matter
whether he is poorly or richly endowed in the beginning.
522
Weak conscience . Men who talk about their importance for mankind
have a weak conscience about their common bourgeois honesty in keeping
contracts or promises.
523
Wanting to be loved . The demand to be loved is the greatest kind
of arrogance.
524
Contempt for people . The least ambiguous sign of a disdain for
people is this: that one tolerates everyone else only as a means
to his end, or not at all.
525
Disciples out of disagreement . Whoever has brought men to a state
of rage against himself has always acquired a party in his favor,
too.
526
Forgetting one's experiences . It is easy for a man who thinks
a lot-and objectively-to forget his own experiences, but not the
thoughts that were evoked by them.
527
Adhering to an opinion . One man adheres to an opinion because
he prides himself on having come upon it by himself; another because
he has learned it with effort, and is proud of having grasped it:
thus both out of vanity.
528
Shunning the light . The good deed shuns the light as anxiously
as the evil deed: the latter fears that, if it is known, pain (as
punishment) will follow; the former fears that, if it is known,
joy (that pure joy in oneself, which ceases as soon as it includes
the satisfaction of one's vanity) will disappear.
529
The day's length . If a man has a great deal to put in them, a
day will have a hundred pockets.
530
Tyrant-genius . If the soul stirs with an ungovernable desire to
assert itself tyranically, and the fire is continually maintained,
then even a slight talent (in politicians or artists) gradually
becomes an almost irresistible force of nature.
531
The life of the enemy . Whoever lives for the sake of combating
an enemy has an interest in the enemy's staying alive.
532
More important . The unexplained, obscure matter is taken as more
important than the explained, clear one.
533
Evaluating services rendered . We evaluate services someone renders
us according to the value that person places on them, not according
to the value they have for us.
534
Unhappiness . The distinction that lies in being unhappy (as if
to feel happy were a sign of shallowness, lack of ambition, ordinariness)
is so great that when someone says, "But how happy you must
be!" we usually protest.
535
Fantasy of fear . The fantasy of fear is that malevolent, apelike
goblin which jumps onto man's back just when he already has the
most to bear.
536
Value of insipid opponents . Sometimes we remain true to a cause
only because its opponents will not stop being insipid.
537
Value of a profession . A profession makes us thoughtless: therein
lies its greatest blessing. For it is a bulwark, behind which we
are allowed to withdraw when qualms and worries of a general kind
attack us.
538
Talent. The talent o some men appears slighter than it is because
they have always set themselves tasks that are too great.
539
Youth. The time of youth is disagreeable, for then it is not possible,
or not reasonable, to be productive in any sense.
540
Goals too great . Who publicly sets himself great goals, and later
realizes privately that he is too weak to accomplish them, does
not usually have enough strength to revoke those goals publicly,
either, and then inevitably becomes a hypocrite.
541
In the stream . Strong currents draw many stones and bushes along
with them; strong minds many stupid and muddled heads.
542
Danger of intellectual liberation . When a man tries earnestly
to liberate his intellect, his passions and desires secretly hope
to benefit from it also.
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547
The "witty" ones . The man who seeks wit has no wit.
548
Hint for party chiefs . If we can force people to declare themselves
publicly for something, we have usually also brought them to the
point of declaring themselves for it privately; they want to continue
to be perceived as consistent.
549
Contempt. Man is more sensitive to contempt from others than to
contempt from himself.
550
Rope of gratitude . There are slavish souls who carry their thanks
for favors so far that they actually strangle themselves with the
rope of gratitude.
551
Trick of the prophet . In order to predict the behavior of ordinary
men, we must assume that they always expend the least possible amount
of intellect to free themselves from a disagreeable situation.
552
The only human right . He who strays from tradition becomes a sacrifice
to the extraordinary; he who remains in tradition is its slave.
Destruction follows in any case.
553
Lower than the animal . When man howls with laughter, he surpasses
all animals by his coarseness.
554
Superficial knowledge . He who speaks a bit of a foreign language
has more delight in it than he who speaks it well; pleasure goes
along with superficial knowledge.
555
Dangerous helpfulness . There are people who want to make men's
lives more difficult for no other reason than afterwards to offer
them their prescriptions for making life easier-their Christianity,
for example.
556
Industriousness and conscientiousness . Industriousness and conscientiousness
are often antagonists, in that industriousness wants to take the
fruits off the tree while still sour, but conscientiousness lets
them hang too long, until they drop off the tree and come to nothing.
557
Suspicion . People whom we cannot tolerate, we try to make suspect.
558
Lacking the circumstances . Many men wait all their lives for the
opportunity to be good in their way.
559
Want of friends . A want of friends points to envy or arrogance.
Many a man owes his friends simply to the fortunate circumstance
that he has no cause for envy.
560
Danger in multiplicity . With one talent the more, one often stands
less secure than with one talent the less: as the table stands better
on three legs than on four.
561
Model for others . He who wants to set a good example must add
a grain of foolishness to his virtue; then others can imitate and,
at the same time, rise above the one being imitated-something which
people love.
562
Being a target . Often, other people's vicious talk about us is
not actually aimed at us, but expresses their annoyance or ill humor
arising from quite different reasons.
563
Easily resigned . A man suffers little from unfulfilled wishes
if he has trained his imagination to think of the past as hateful.
564
In danger . When we have just gotten out of the way of a vehicle,
we are most in danger of being run over.
565
The role according to the voice . He who is forced to speak more
loudly than is his habit (as in front of someone hard of hearing,
or before a large audience) generally exaggerates what he has to
communicate.
Some people become conspirators, malicious slanderers, or schemers,
merely because their voice is best suited to a whisper.
566
Love and hatred . Love and hatred are not blind, but are blinded
by the fire they themselves carry with them.
567
Made an enemy to one's advantage . Men who are unable to make their
merit completely clear to the world seek to awaken an intense enmity
towards themselves. Then they have the comfort of thinking that
this stands between their merit and its recognition-and that other
people assume the same thing, which is of great advantage to their
own importance.
568
Confession . We forget our guilt when we have confessed it to another,
but usually the other person does not forget it.
569
Self-sufficiency . The golden fleece of self-sufficiency protects
against thrashings, but not against pin-pricks.
570
Shadow in the flame . The flame is not so bright to itself as to
those on whom it shines: so too the wise man.
571
Our own opinions . The first opinion that occurs to us when we
are suddenly asked about a matter is usually not our own, but only
the customary one, appropriate to our caste, position, or parentage;
our own opinions seldom swim near the surface.
572
Origin of courage . The ordinary man is courageous and invulnerable
like a hero when he does not see the danger, when he has no eyes
for it. Conversely, the hero's one vulnerable spot is on his back;
that is, where he has no eyes.
573
Danger in the doctor . A man is either born for his doctor, or
else he perishes by his doctor.
574
Magical vanity . He who has boldly prophesied the weather three
times and has been successful, believes a bit, at the bottom of
his heart, in his own prophetic gift. We do not dispute what is
magical or irrational when it flatters our self-esteem.
575
Profession . A profession is the backbone of life.
576
Danger of personal influence . He who feels that he exercises a
great inner influence on another must leave him quite free rein,
indeed must look with favor on his occasional resistance and even
bring it about: otherwise he will inevitably make himself an enemy.
577
Giving the heir his due . Whoever has established something great
with a selfless frame of mind takes care to bring up heirs. It is
the sign of a tyrannical and ignoble nature to see one's opponents
in all the possible heirs of one's work and to live in a state of
self-defense against them.
578
A little knowledge . A little knowledge is more successful than
complete knowledge: it conceives things as simpler than they are,
thus resulting in opinions that are more comprehensible and persuasive.
579
Not suited to be a party member . He who thinks much is not suited
to be a party member: too soon, he thinks himself through and beyond
the party.
580
Bad memory . The advantage of a bad memory is that, several times
over, one enjoys the same good things for the first time.
581
Causing oneself pain . Inconsiderate thinking is often the sign
of a discordant inner state which craves numbness.
582
Martyr. The disciple of a martyr suffers more than the martyr.
583
Residual vanity . The vanity of some people, who should not need
to be vain, is the left-over and full-grown habit stemming from
that time when they still had no right to believe in themselves,
and only acquired their belief from others, by begging it in small
change.
584
Punctum saliens5 of passion . He who is about to fall into a state
of anger or violent love reaches a point where his soul is full
like a vessel; but it needs one more drop of water: the good will
to passion (which is generally also called the bad will). Only this
little point is necessary; then the vessel runs over.
585
Bad-tempered thought . People are like piles of charcoal in the
woods. Only when young people have stopped glowing, and carbonized,
as charcoal does, do they become useful. As long as they smolder
and smoke they are perhaps more interesting, but useless, and all
too often troublesome.
Mankind unsparingly uses every individual as material to heat its
great machines; but what good are the machines when all individuals
(that is, mankind) serve only to keep them going? Machines that
are their own end-is that the umana commedia26
586
The hour-hand of life . Life consists of rare, isolated moments
of the greatest significance, and of innumerably many intervals,
during which at best the silhouettes of those moments hover about
us. Love, springtime, every beautiful melody, mountains, the moon,
the sea-all these speak completely to the heart but once, if in
fact they ever do get a chance to speak completely. For many men
do not have those moments at all, and are themselves intervals and
intermissions in the symphony of real life.
587
To set against or set to work ? We often make the mistake of actively
opposing a direction, or party, or epoch, because we coincidentally
get to see only its superficial side, its stunted aspect, or the
inescapable "faults of its virtues" 8-perhaps because
we ourselves have participated to a large degree in them. Then we
turn our back on them and seek an opposite direction; but it would
be better to look for the strong, good sides, or to develop them
in ourselves. To be sure, it takes a stronger gaze and a better
will to further that which is evolving and imperfect, rather than
to penetrate its imperfection and reject it.
588
Modesty. True modesty (that is, the knowledge that we are not our
own creations) does exist, and it well suits the great mind, because
he particularly can comprehend the thought of his complete lack
of responsibility (even for whatever good he creates). One does
not hate the great man's immodesty because he is feeling his strength,
but rather because he wants to feel it primarily by wounding others,
treating them imperiously and watching to see how much they can
stand. Most often, this actually proves that he lacks a secure sense
of his strength, and makes men doubt his greatness. To this extent,
cleverness would strongly advise against immodesty.
589
The first thought of the day . The best way to begin each day well
is to think upon awakening whether we could not give at least one
person pleasure on this day. If this practice could be accepted
as a substitute for the religious habit of prayer, our fellow men
would benefit by this change.
590
Arrogance as the last means of comfort . If a man accounts for
a misfortune, or his intellectual inadequacies, or his illness by
seeing them as his predetermined fate, his ordeal, or mysterious
punishment for something he had done earlier, he is thereby making
his own nature interesting, and imagining himself superior to his
fellow men. The proud sinner is a familiar figure in all religious
sects.
591
Growth of happiness . Near to the sorrow of the world, and often
upon its volcanic earth, man has laid out his little gardens of
happiness; whether he approaches life as one who wants only knowledge
from existence, or as one who yields and resigns himself, or as
one who rejoices in a difficulty overcome-everywhere he will find
some happiness sprouting up next to the trouble. The more volcanic
the earth, the greater the happiness will be-but it would be ludicrous
to say that this happiness justified suffering per se.
592
The street of one's ancestors . It is reasonable to develop further
the talent that one's father or grandfather worked hard at, and
not switch to something entirely new; otherwise one is depriving
himself of the chance to attain perfection in some one craft. Thus
the saying: "Which street should you take?-that of your ancestors."
593
Vanity and ambition as educators . So long as a man has not yet
become the instrument of the universal human good, ambition may
torment him; but if he has achieved that goal, if of necessity he
is working like a machine for the good of all, then vanity may enter;
it will humanize him in small matters, make him more sociable, tolerable,
considerate, once ambition has completed the rough work (of making
him useful).
594
Philosophical novices . If we have just partaken of a philosopher's
wisdom, we go through the streets feeling as if we had been transformed
and had become great men; for we encounter only people who do not
know this wisdom, and thus we have to deliver a new, unheard-of
judgment about everything; because we have acknowledged a book of
laws, we also think we now have to act like judges.
595
Pleasing by displeasing . People who prefer to be noticed, and
thereby displease, desire the same thing as those who do not want
to be noticed, and want to please, only to a much greater degree
and indirectly, by means of a step that seems to be distancing them
from their goal. Because they want to have influence and power,
they display their superiority, even if it is felt as disagreeable:
for they know that the man who has finally gained power pleases
in almost everything he does and says, that even when he displeases,
he seems nevertheless to be pleasing.
Both the free spirit and the true believer want power, too, in
order to use it to please; if they are threatened because of their
doctrines with a dire fate, persecution, prison, or execution, they
rejoice at the thought that this will enable their doctrines to
be engraved and branded upon mankind; although it is delayed acting,
they accept it as a painful but potent means to attain power after
all.
596
Casus belli9 and the like . The prince who discovers a casus belli
for an earlier decision to wage war against his neighbor is like
a father who imposes a mother upon his child, to be henceforth accepted
as such. And are not almost all publicly announced motives for our
actions such imposed mothers?
597
Passions and rights . No one speaks more passionately about his
rights than the man who, at the bottom of his heart, doubts them.
In drawing passion to his side, he wants to deaden reason and its
doubts: he thus gains a good conscience, and, along with it, success
with his fellow men.
598
The renouncing man's trick . He who protests against marriage,
in the manner of Catholic priests, will seek to understand it in
its lowest, most vulgar sense. Likewise, he who refuses the respect
of his contemporaries will conceive it in a base way; he thus makes
his renunciation of it and the fight against it easier for himself.
Incidentally, he who denies himself much in large matters will
easily indulge himself in small matters. It is conceivable that
the man who is above the applause of his contemporaries is nevertheless
unable to refuse himself the satisfaction of little vanities.
599
The age of arrogance . The true period of arrogance for talented
men comes between their twenty-sixth and thirtieth year; it is the
time of first ripeness, with a good bit of sourness still remaining.
On the basis of what one feels inside himself, one demands from
other people, who see little or nothing of it, respect and humility;
and because these are not at first forthcoming, one takes vengeance
with a glance, an arrogant gesture, or a tone of voice. This a fine
ear and eye will recognize in all the products of those years, be
they poems, philosophies, or paintings and music. Older, experienced
men smile about it, and remember with emotion this beautiful time
of life, in which one is angry at his lot of having to be so much
and seem so little. Later, one really seems to be more but the faith
in being much has been lost, unless one remain throughout his life
vanity's hopeless fool.
600
Deceptive and yet firm . When walking around the top of an abyss,
or crossing a deep stream on a plank, we need a railing, not to
hold onto (for it would collapse with us at once), but rather to
achieve the visual image of security. Likewise, when we are young,
we need people who unconsciously offer us the service of that railing;
it is true that they would not help us if we really were in great
danger and wanted to lean on them; but they give us the comforting
sensation of protection nearby (for example, fathers, teachers,
friends, as we generally know all three).
601
Learning to love . We must learn to love, learn to be kind, and
this from earliest youth; if education or chance give us no opportunity
to practice these feelings, our soul becomes dry and unsuited even
to understanding the tender inventions of loving people. Likewise,
hatred must be learned and nurtured, if one wishes to become a proficient
hater: otherwise the germ for that, too, will gradually wither.
602
Ruins as decoration . People who go through many spiritual changes
retain some views and habits from earlier stages, which then jut
out into their new thinking and acting like a bit of inexplicable
antiquity and gray stonework, often ornamenting the whole region.
603
Love and respect . 'o Love desires; fear avoids. That is why it
is impossible, at least in the same time span, to be loved and respected
by the same person. For the man who respects another, acknowledges
his power; that is, he fears it: his condition is one of awe."
But love acknowledges no power, nothing that separates, differentiates,
ranks higher or subordinates. Because the state of being loved carries
with it no respect, ambitious12 men secretly or openly balk against
it.
604
Prejudice in favor of cold people . People who catch fire rapidly
quickly become cold, and are therefore by and large unreliable.
Therefore, all those who are always cold, or act that way, benefit
from the prejudice that they are especially trustworthy, reliable
people: they are being confused with those others who catch fire
slowly and burn for a long time.
605
What is dangerous about free opinions . The casual entertainment
of free opinions is like an itch; giving in to it, one begins to
rub the area; finally there is an open, aching wound; that is, the
free opinion finally begins to disturb and torment us in our attitude
to life, in our human relationships.
606
Desire for deep pain . When it has gone, passion leaves behind
a dark longing for itself, and in disappearing throws us one last
seductive glance. There must have been a kind of pleasure in having
been beaten with her whip. In contrast, the more moderate feelings
appear flat; apparently we still prefer a more violent displeasure
to a weak pleasure.
607
Annoyance with others and the world . When, as happens so often,
we let our annoyance out on others, while we are actually feeling
it about ourselves, we are basically trying to cloud and delude
our judgment; we want to motivate our annoyance a posteriori by
the oversights and inadequacies of others, so we can lose sight
of ourselves.
Religiously strict people, who judge themselves without mercy,
are also those who have most often spoken ill of mankind in general.
There has never been a saint who reserves sins to himself and virtues
to others: he is as rare as the man who, following Buddha's precept,
hides his goodness from people and lets them see of himself only
what is bad.
608
Cause and effect confused . Unconsciously we seek out the principles
and dogmas that are in keeping with our temperament, so that in
the end it looks as if the principles and dogmas had created our
character, given it stability and certainty, while precisely the
opposite has occurred. It seems that our thinking and judging are
to be made the cause of our nature after the fact, but actually
our nature causes us to think and judge one way or the other.
And what decides us on this almost unconscious comedy? Laziness
and convenience, and not least the vain desire to be considered
consistent through and through, uniform both in character and thought:
for this earns us respect, brings us trust and power.
609
Age and truth . Young people love what is interesting and odd,
no matter how true or false it is. More mature minds love what is
interesting and odd about truth. Fully mature intellects, finally,
love truth, even when it appears plain and simple, boring to the
ordinary person; for they have noticed that truth tends to reveal
its highest wisdom in the guise of simplicity.
610
People as bad poets . Just as bad poets, in the second half of
a line, look for a thought to fit their rhyme, so people in the
second half of their lives, having become more anxious, look for
the actions, attitudes, relationships that suit those of their earlier
life, so that everything will harmonize outwardly. But then they
no longer have any powerful thought to rule their life and determine
it anew; rather, in its stead, comes the intention of finding a
rhyme.
611
Boredom and play . Need forces us to do the work whose product
will quiet the need; we are habituated to work by the evernew awakening
of needs. But in those intervals when our needs are quieted and
seem to sleep, boredom overtakes us. What is that? It is the habit
of working as such, which now asserts itself as a new, additional
need; the need becomes the greater, the greater our habit of working,
perhaps even the greater our suffering from our needs. To escape
boredom, man works either beyond what his usual needs require, or
else he invents play, that is, work that is designed to quiet no
need other than that for working in general. He who is tired of
play, and has no reason to work because of new needs, is sometimes
overcome by the longing for a third state that relates to play as
floating does to dancing, as dancing does to walking, a blissful,
peaceful state of motion: it is the artist's and philosopher's vision
of happiness.
612
Instruction from pictures . If we consider a series of pictures
of ourselves from the time of childhood to that of manhood, we are
agreeably surprised to find that the man resembles the child more
than the adolescent: probably corresponding to this occurrence,
then, there has been a temporary alienation from our basic character,
now overcome again by the man's collected, concentrated strength.
This perception agrees with the one that all those strong influences
of our passions, our teachers, or political events, which pull us
about in our adolescence, later seem to be reduced to a fixed measure.
Certainly, they continue to live and act in us, but our basic feeling
and basic thinking have the upper hand; these influences are used
as sources of power, but no longer as regulators, as happens in
our twenties. Thus man's thinking and feeling appear again more
in accord with that of his childhood years-and this inner fact is
expressed in the external one mentioned above.
613
Voice of the years . The tone adolescents use to speak, praise,
blame, or invent displeases older people because it is too loud
and yet at the same time muffled and unclear, like a tone in a vault,
which gains resonance because of the emptiness. For most of what
adolescents think has not flowed out of the fullness of their own
nature, but rather harmonizes and echoes what is thought, spoken,
praised, or blamed around them. But because the feelings (of inclination
and disinclination) reverberate in them much more strongly than
the reasons for these feelings, there arises, when they give voice
to their feeling again, that muffled, ringing tone that indicates
the absence or paucity of reasons. The tone of the more mature years
is rigorous, sharply punctuated, moderately loud, but like everything
clearly articulated, it carries very far. Finally, old age often
brings a certain gentleness and indulgence to the sound and seems
to sugar it: of course, in some cases it makes it sour, too.
614
Backward and anticipating people . The unpleasant personality who
is full of mistrust, who reacts with envy to his competitors' and
neighbors' successes, who flares up violently at divergent opinions,
is showing that he belongs to an earlier stage of culture, and is
thus a relic. For the way in which he interacts with people was
proper and appropriate for the conditions of an age when rule by
force prevailed: he is a backward person. A second personality,
who shares profusely in others' joy, who wins friends everywhere,
who is touched by everything that grows and evolves, who enjoys
other people's honors and successes, and makes no claim to the privilege
of alone knowing the truth, but instead is full of modest skepticism-he
is an anticipator who is reaching ahead towards a higher human culture.
The unpleasant personality grows out of times when the unhewn foundation
of human intercourse had still to be laid; the other lives on its
highest floors, as far away as possible from the wild animal that
rages and howls locked up in the cellars, beneath the foundations
of culture.
615
Comfort for hypochondriacs . When a great thinker is temporarily
subjected to hypochondriacal self-torments, he may say to comfort
himself: "This parasite is feeding and growing from your great
strength; if that strength were less, you would have less to suffer."
The statesman may speak likewise when his jealousy and vengeful
feelings, in short, the mood of a bellum omnium contra omnes,13
for which he as a nation's representative must necessarily have
a great gift, occasionally intrude into his personal relations and
make his life difficult.
616
Alienated from the present . There are great advantages in for
once removing ourselves distinctly from our time and letting ourselves
be driven from its shore back into the ocean of former world views.
Looking at the coast from that perspective, we survey for the first
time its entire shape, and when we near it again, we have the advantage
of understanding it better on the whole than do those who have never
left it.
617
Sowing and reaping on personal inadequacies . People like Rousseau
know how to use their weaknesses, deficiencies, or vices as if they
were the fertilizer of their talent. When Rousseau laments the depravity
and degeneration of society as the unpleasant consequence of culture,
14 this is based on his personal experience, whose bitterness makes
his general condemnation so sharp, and poisons the arrows he shoots.
He is relieving himself first as an individual, and thinks that
he is seeking a cure that will directly benefit society, but that
will also indirectly, and by means of society, benefit him too.
618
A philosophical frame of mind . Generally we strive to acquire
one emotional stance, one viewpoint for all life situations and
events: we usually call that being of a philosophical frame of mind.
But rather than making oneself uniform, we may find greater value
for the enrichment of knowledge by listening to the soft voice of
different life situations; each brings its own views with it. Thus
we acknowledge and share the life and nature of many by not treating
ourselves like rigid, invariable, single individuals.
619
In the fire of contempt . It is a new step towards independence,
once a man dares to express opinions that bring disgrace on him
if he entertains them; then even his friends and acquaintances begin
to grow anxious. The man of talent must pass through this fire,
too; afterwards he is much more his own person.
620
Sacrifice . If there is a choice, a great sacrifice will be preferred
to a small one, because we compensate ourselves for a great sacrifice
with self-admiration, and this is not possible with a small one.
621
Love as a device . Whoever wants really to get to know something
new (be it a person, an event, or a book) does well to take up this
new thing with all possible love, to avert his eye quickly from,
even to forget, everything about it that he finds inimical, objectionable,
or false. So, for example, we give the author of a book the greatest
possible head start, and, as if at a race, virtually yearn with
a pounding heart for him to reach his goal. By doing this, we penetrate
into the heart of the new thing, into its motive center: and this
is what it means to get to know it. Once we have got that far, reason
then sets its limits; that overestimation, that occasional unhinging
of the critical pendulum, was just a device to entice the soul of
a matter out into the open.
622
To think too well or too ill of the world . Whether we think too
well or too ill of things, we will always gain the advantage of
reaping a greater pleasure: if our preconceived opinion is too good
we are generally investing things (experiences) with more sweetness
than they actually possess. If a preconceived opinion is overly
negative, it leads to a pleasant disappointment: what was pleasurable
in those things in and of themselves is increased through the pleasure
of our surprise.
Incidentally, a morose temperament will experience the opposite
in both cases.
623
Profound people . Those people whose strength lies in the profundity
of their impressions (they are generally called "profound people")
are relatively controlled and decisive when anything sudden happens:
for in the first moment the impression was still shallow; only later
does it become profound. But long-foreseen, anticipated things or
people excite such natures most, and make them almost incapable
of maintaining presence of mind when their wait is over.
624
Traffic with one's higher self . Everyone has his good day, when
he finds his higher self; and true humanity demands that we judge
someone only when he is in this condition, and not in his workdays
of bondage and servitude. We should, for example, assess and honor
a painter according to the highest vision he was able to see and
portray. But people themselves deal very differently with this,
their higher self, and often act out the role of their own self,
to the extent that they later keep imitating what they were in those
moments. Some regard their ideal with shy humility and would like
to deny it: they fear their higher self because, when it speaks,
it speaks demandingly. In addition, it has a ghostly freedom of
coming or staying away as it wishes; for that reason it is often
called a gift of the gods, while actually everything else is a gift
of the gods (of chance): this, however, is the man himself.
625
Solitary people . Some people are so used to solitude with themselves
that they never compare themselves to others, but spin forth their
monologue of a life in a calm, joyous mood, holding good conversations
with themselves, even laughing. But if they are made to compare
themselves with others, they tend to a brooding underestimation
of their selves: so that they have to be forced to learn again from
others to have a good, fair opinion of themselves. And even from
this learned opinion they will always want to detract or reduce
something.
Thus one must grant certain men their solitude, and not be silly
enough, as often happens, to pity them for it.
626
Without melody . There are people for whom a constant inner repose
and a harmonious ordering of all their capabilities is so characteristic
that any goal-directed activity goes against their grain. They are
like a piece of music consisting entirely of sustained harmonious
chords, with no evidence of even the beginning of a structured,
moving melody. At any movement from the outside, their boat at once
gains a new equilibrium on the sea of harmonic euphony. Modern people
are usually extremely impatient on meeting such natures, who do
not become anything though it may not be said that they are not
anything. In certain moods, however, their presence evokes that
rare question: why have melody at all? Why are we not satisfied
when life mirrors itself peacefully in a deep lake?
The Middle Ages was richer in such natures than we are. How seldom
do we now meet a person who can keep living so peacefully and cheerfully
with himself even amidst the turmoil, saying to himself like Goethe:
"The best is the deep quiet in which I live and grow against
the world, and harvest what they cannot take from me by fire or
sword.."' 15
627
Life and experience . 16 If one notices how some individuals know
how to treat their experiences (their insignificant everyday experiences)
so that these become a plot of ground that bears fruit three times
a year; while others (and how many of them!) are driven through
the waves of the most exciting turns of fate, of the most varied
currents of their time or nation, and yet always stay lightly on
the surface, like cork: then one is finally tempted to divide mankind
into a minority (minimality) of those people who know how to make
much out of little and a majority of those who know how to make
a little out of much; indeed, one meets those perverse wizards who,
instead of creating the world out of nothing, create nothing out
of the world.
628
Seriousness in play . At sunset in Genoa, I heard from a tower
a long chiming of bells: it kept on and on, and over the noise of
the backstreets, as if insatiable for itself, it rang out into the
evening sky and the sea air, so terrible and so childish at the
same time, so melancholy. Then I thought of Plato's words and felt
them suddenly in my heart: all in all, nothing human is worth taking
very seriously; nevertheless. . .
629
On convictions and justice .18 To carry out later, in coolness
and sobriety, what a man promises or decides in passion: this demand
is among the heaviest burdens oppressing mankind. To have to acknowledge
for all duration the consequences of anger, of raging vengeance,
of enthusiastic devotion-this can incite a bitterness against these
feelings all the greater because everywhere, and especially by artists,
precisely these feelings are the object of idol worship. Artists
cultivate the esteem for the passions, and have always done so;
to be sure, they also glorify the frightful satisfactions of passion,
in which one indulges, the outbursts of revenge that have death,
mutilation, or voluntary banishment as a consequence, and the resignation
of the broken heart. In any event, they keep alive curiosity about
the passions; it is as if they wished to say: without passions you
have experienced nothing at all.
Because we have vowed to be faithful, even, perhaps, to a purely
imaginary being, a God, for instance; because we have given our
heart to a prince, a party, a woman, a priestly order, an artist,
or a thinker, in the state of blind madness that enveloped us in
rapture and let those beings appear worthy of every honor, every
sacrifice: are we then inextricably bound? Were we not deceiving
ourselves then? Was it not a conditional promise, under the assumption
(unstated, to be sure) that those beings to whom we dedicated ourselves
really are the beings they appeared to be in our imaginations? Are
we obliged to be faithful to our errors, even if we perceive that
by this faithfulness we do damage to our higher self?
No-there is no law, no obligation of that kind; we must become
traitors, act unfaithfully, forsake our ideals again and again.
We do not pass from one period of life to another without causing
these pains of betrayal, and without suffering from them in turn.
Should we have to guard ourselves against the upsurging of our feeling
in order to avoid these pains? Would not the world then become too
bleak, too ghostly for us? We want rather to ask ourselves whether
these pains at a change of conviction are necessary, or whether
they do not depend on an erroneous opinion and estimation. Why do
we admire the man who remains faithful to his conviction and despise
the one who changes it? I fear the answer must be that everyone
assumes such a change is caused only by motives of baser advantage
or personal fear. That is, we believe fundamentally that no one
changes his opinions as long as they are advantageous to him, or
at least as long as they do him no harm. But if that is the case,
it bears bad testimony to the intellectual meaning of all convictions.
Let us test how convictions come into being and observe whether
they are not vastly overrated: in that way it will be revealed that
the change of convictions too is in any case measured by false standards
and that until now we have tended to suffer too much from such changes.
630
Conviction is the belief that in some point of knowledge one possesses
absolute truth. Such a belief presumes, then, that absolute truths
exist; likewise, that the perfect methods for arriving at them have
been found; finally, that every man who has convictions makes use
of these perfect methods. All three assertions prove at once that
the man of convictions is not the man of scientific thinking; he
stands before us still in the age of theoretical innocence, a child,
however grownup he might be otherwise. But throughout thousands
of years, people have lived in such childlike assumptions, and from
out of them mankind's mightiest sources of power have flowed. The
countless people who sacrificed themselves for their convictions
thought they were doing it for absolute truth. All of them were
wrong: probably no man has ever sacrificed himself for truth; at
least, the dogmatic expression of his belief will have been unscientific
or half-scientific. But actually one wanted to be right because
one thought he had to be right. To let his belief be torn from him
meant perhaps to put his eternal happiness in question. With a matter
of this extreme importance, the "will" was all too audibly
the intellect's prompter. Every believer of every persuasion assumed
he could not be refuted; if the counterarguments proved very strong,
he could still always malign reason in general and perhaps even
raise as a banner of extreme fanaticism the "credo quia absurdum
est."19 It is not the struggle of opinions that has made history
so violent, but rather the struggle of belief in opinions, that
is, the struggle of convictions. If only all those people who thought
so highly of their conviction, who sacrificed all sorts of things
to it and spared neither their honor, body nor life in its service,
had devoted only half of their strength to investigating by what
right they clung to this or that conviction, how they had arrived
at it, then how peaceable the history of mankind would appear! How
much more would be known! All the cruel scenes during the persecution
of every kind of heretic would have been spared us for two reasons:
first, because the inquisitors would above all have inquired within
themselves, and got beyond the arrogant idea that they were defending
the absolute truth; and second, because the heretics themselves
would not have granted such poorly established tenets as those of
all the sectarians and "orthodox" any further attention,
once they had investigated them.
631
Stemming from the time when people were accustomed to believe that
they possessed absolute truth is a deep discomfort with all skeptical
and relativistic positions on any questions of knowledge; usually
we prefer to surrender unconditionally to a conviction held by people
of authority (fathers, friends, teachers, princes), and we have
a kind of troubled conscience if we do not do so. This inclination
is understandable and its consequences do not entitle us to violent
reproaches against the development of human reason. But eventually
the scientific spirit in man must bring forth that virtue of cautious
restraint, that wise moderation that is better known in the realm
of practical life than in the realm of theoretical life, and that
Goethe, for example, portrayed in his Antonio, as an object of animosity
for all Tassos,20 that is, for those unscientific and also passive
natures. The man of conviction has in himself a right not to understand
the man of cautious thinking, the theoretical Antonio; the scientific
man, on the other hand, has no right to scold him for this; he makes
allowances for him and knows besides that, in certain cases, the
man will cling to him as Tasso finally does to Antonio.
632
If one has not passed through various convictions, but remains
caught in the net of his first belief, he is in all events, because
of just this unchangeability, a representative of backward cultures;
in accordance with this lack of education (which always presupposes
educability), he is harsh, injudicious, unteachable, without gentleness,
eternally suspect, a person lacking scruples, who reaches for any
means to enforce his opinion because he simply cannot understand
that there have to be other opinions. In this regard, he is perhaps
a source of power, and even salutary in cultures grown too free
and lax, but only because he powerfully incites opposition: for
in that way the new culture's more delicate structure, which is
forced to struggle with him, becomes strong itself.
633
Essentially, we are still the same people as those in the period
of the Reformation-and how should it be otherwise? But we no longer
allow ourselves certain means to gain victory for our opinion: this
distinguishes us from that age and proves that we belong to a higher
culture. These days, if a man still attacks and crushes opinions
with suspicions and outbursts of rage, in the manner of men during
the Reformation, he clearly betrays that he would have burnt his
opponents, had he lived in other times, and that he would have taken
recourse to all the means of the Inquisition, had he lived as an
opponent of the Reformation. In its time, the Inquisition was reasonable,
for it meant nothing other than the general martial law which had
to be proclaimed over the whole domain of the church, and which,
like every state of martial law, justified the use of the extremest
means, namely under the assumption (which we no longer share with
those people) that one possessed truth in the church and had to
preserve it at any cost, with any sacrifice, for the salvation of
mankind. But now we will no longer concede so easily that anyone
has the truth; the rigorous methods of inquiry have spread sufficient
distrust and caution, so that we experience every man who represents
opinions violently in word and deed as any enemy of our present
culture, or at least as a backward person. And in fact, the fervor
about having the truth counts very little today in relation to that
other fervor, more gentle and silent, to be sure, for seeking the
truth, a search that does not tire of learning afresh and testing
anew.
634
Incidentally, the methodical search for truth itself results from
those times when convictions were feuding among themselves. If the
individual had not cared about his "truth," that is, about
his being right in the end, no method of inquiry would exist at
all; but, given the eternal struggle of various individuals' claims
to absolute truth, man proceeded step by step, in order to find
irrefutable principles by which the justice of the claims could
be tested and the argument settled. At first decisions were made
according to authorities, later the ways and means with which the
ostensible truth had been found were mutually criticized; in between,
there was a period when the consequences of the opposing tenet were
drawn and perhaps experienced as harmful and saddening; this was
to result in everyone's judging that the opponent's conviction contained
an error. Finally, the thinkers' personal struggle sharpened their
methods so much that truths could really be discovered, and the
aberrations of earlier methods were exposed to everyone's eye.
635
All in all, scientific methods are at least as important as any
other result of inquiry; for the scientific spirit is based on the
insight into methods, and were those methods to be lost, all the
results of science could not prevent a renewed triumph of superstition
and nonsense. Clever people may learn the results of science as
much as they like, one still sees from their conversation, especially
from their hypotheses in conversation, that they lack the scientific
spirit. They do not have that instinctive mistrust of the wrong
ways of thinking, a mistrust which, as a consequence of long practice,
has put its roots deep into the soul of every scientific man. For
them it is enough to find any one hypothesis about a matter; then
they get fired up about it and think that puts an end to it. For
them, to have an opinion means to get fanatical about it and cherish
it in their hearts henceforth as a conviction. If a matter is unexplained,
they become excited at the first notion resembling an explanation
that enters their brain; this always has the worst consequences,
especially in the realm of politics.
Therefore everyone should have come to know at least one science
in its essentials; then he knows what method is, and how necessary
is the most extreme circumspection. This advice should be given
to women particularly, who are now the hopeless victims of all hypotheses,
especially those which give the impression of being witty, thrilling,
invigorating, or energizing. In fact, if one looks closer, one notices
that the majority of all educated people still desire convictions
and nothing but convictions from a thinker, and that only a slight
minority want certainty. The former want to be forcibly carried
away, in order to thus increase their own strength; the latter few
have that matter-of-fact interest that ignores personal advantage,
even the above-mentioned increase of strength. Wherever the thinker
behaves like a genius, calling himself one, and looking down like
a higher being who deserves authority, he is counting on the class
in the overwhelming majority. To the extent that that kind of genius
keeps up the heat of convictions and awakens distrust of the cautious
and modest spirit of science, he is an enemy of truth, however much
he may believe he is its suitor.
636
To be sure, there is also quite another category of genius, that
of justice; and I can in no way see fit to esteem that kind lower
than any philosophical, political, or artistic genius. It is its
way to avoid with hearty indignation everything which blinds and
confuses our judgment about things; thus it is an enemy of convictions,
for it wants to give each thing its due, be it living or dead, real
or fictive-and to do so it must apprehend it clearly. Therefore
it places each thing in the best light and walks all around it with
an attentive eye. Finally it will even give its due to its opponent,
to blind or shortsighted "conviction" (as men call it;
women call it "faith")-for the sake of truth.
637
Out of passions grow opinions; mental sloth lets these rigidify
into convictions.
However, if one feels he is of a free, restlessly lively mind,
he can prevent this rigidity through constant change; and if he
is on the whole a veritable thinking snowball, then he will have
no opinions at all in his head, but rather only certainties and
precisely measured probabilities.
But we who are of a mixed nature, sometimes aglow with fire and
sometimes chilled by intellect, we want to kneel down before justice,
as the only goddess whom we recognize above us. Usually the fire
in us makes us unjust, and in the sense of that goddess, impure;
never may we touch her hand in this condition; never will the grave
smile of her pleasure lie upon us. We honor her as our life's veiled
Isis;21 ashamed, we offer her our pain as a penance and a sacrifice,
when the fire burns us and tries to consume us. It is the intellect
that saves us from turning utterly to burnt-out coals; here and
there it pulls us away from justice's sacrificial altar, or wraps
us in an asbestos cocoon. Redeemed from the fire, we then stride
on, driven by the intellect, from opinion to opinion, through the
change of sides, as noble traitors to all things that can ever be
betrayed-and yet with no feeling of guilt.
638
The wanderer . He who has come only in part to a freedom of reason
cannot feel on earth otherwise than as a wanderer-though not as
a traveler towards a final goal, for this does not exist. But he
does want to observe, and keep his eyes open for everything that
actually occurs in the world; therefore he must not attach his heart
too firmly to any individual thing; there must be something wandering
within him, which takes its joy in change and transitoriness. To
be sure, such a man will have bad nights, when he is tired and finds
closed the gates to the city that should offer him rest; perhaps
in addition, as in the Orient, the desert reaches up to the gate;
predatory animals howl now near, now far; a strong wind stirs; robbers
lead off his pack-animals. Then for him the frightful night sinks
over the desert like a second desert, and his heart becomes tired
of wandering. If the morning sun then rises, glowing like a divinity
of wrath, and the city opens up, he sees in the faces of its inhabitants
perhaps more of desert, dirt, deception, uncertainty, than outside
the gates-and the day is almost worse than the night. So it may
happen sometimes to the wanderer; but then, as recompense, come
the ecstatic mornings of other regions and days. Then nearby in
the dawning light he already sees the bands of muses dancing past
him in the mist of the mountains. Afterwards, he strolls quietly
in the equilibrium of his forenoon soul, under trees from whose
tops and leafy corners only good and bright things are thrown down
to him, the gifts of all those free spirits who are at home in mountain,
wood, and solitude, and who are, like him, in their sometimes merry,
sometimes contemplative way, wanderers and philosophers. Born out
of the mysteries of the dawn, they ponder how the day can have such
a pure, transparent, transfigured and cheerful face between the
hours of ten and twelve-they seek the philosophy of the forenoon.
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