Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion!
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion!
Nietzsche - v11 - Thus Spake Zarathustra
But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#502) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#503) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#504) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#505) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#506) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#507) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#508) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#509) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#510) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#511) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#512) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#513) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#514) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#515) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#516) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#517) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#518) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted ': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p.
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#502) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#503) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#504) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#505) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#506) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#507) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#508) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#509) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#510) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#511) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#512) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#513) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#514) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#515) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#516) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p. 335 (#517) ############################################
LXIX. —THE SHADOW. 335
any longer that I love,—how should I still love
myself?
'To live as I incline, or not to live at all': so do
I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas!
how have / still—inclination?
Have /—still a goal? A haven towards which my
sail is set?
A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth
whither he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and
a fair wind for him.
What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and
flippant; an unstable will; fluttering wings; a
broken backbone.
This seeking for my home: O Zarathustra, dost
thou know that this seeking hath been my home-
sickening; it eateth me up.
'Where is—my home? ' For it do I ask and
seek, and have sought, but have not found it. O
eternal everywhere, O eternal nowhere, O eternal
—in-vain! "
Thus spake the shadow, and Zarathustra's coun-
tenance lengthened at his words. "Thou art my
shadow ! " said he at last sadly.
"Thy danger is not small, thou free spirit and
wanderer! Thou hast had a bad day: see that a
still worse evening doth not overtake thee!
To such unsettled ones as thou, seemeth at last
even a prisoner blessed. Didst thou ever see how
captured criminals sleep? They sleep quietly, they
enjoy their new security.
Beware lest in the end a narrow faith capture
thee, a hard, rigorous delusion! For now every-
## p. 335 (#518) ############################################
334 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV.
After thee, however, O Zarathustra, did I fly and
hie longest; and though I hid myself from thee,
I was nevertheless thy best shadow: wherever thou
hast sat, there sat I also.
With thee have I wandered about in the re-
motest, coldest worlds, like a phantom that
voluntarily haunteth winter roofs and snows.
With thee have I pushed into all the forbidden,
all the worst and the furthest: and if there be any-
thing of virtue in me, it is that I have had no fear
of any prohibition.
With thee have I broken up whatever my heart
revered; all boundary-stones and statues have I
o'erthrown; the most dangerous wishes did I
pursue,—verily, beyond every crime did I once go.
With thee did I unlearn the belief in words and
worths and in great names. When the devil
casteth his skin, doth not his name also fall away?
It is also skin. The devil himself is perhaps—skin.
'Nothing is true, all is permitted ': so said I to
myself. Into the coldest water did I plunge with
head and heart. Ah, how oft did I stand there
naked on that account, like a red crab!
Ah, where have gone all my goodness and all my
shame and all my belief in the good! Ah, where
is the lying innocence which I once possessed, the
innocence of the good and of their noble lies!
Too oft, verily, did I follow close to the heels of
truth: then did it kick me on the face. Some-
times I meant to lie, and behold! then only did
I hit—the truth.
Too much hath become clear unto me: now it
doth not concern me any more. Nothing liveth
## p.
