“Loving ones, was it always, and creating ones, that created good and
bad. Fire of love gloweth in the names of all the virtues, and fire of
wrath.
Many lands saw Zarathustra, and many peoples: no greater power did
Zarathustra find on earth than the creations of the loving ones –
“good” and “bad” are they called.
Verily, a prodigy is this power of praising and blaming. Tell me, ye
brethren, who will master it for me? Who will put a fetter upon the
thousand necks of this animal?
A thousand goals have there been hitherto, for a thousand peoples have
there been. Only the fetter for the thousand necks is still lacking;
there is lacking the one goal. As yet humanity hath not a goal.
But pray tell me, my brethren, if the goal of humanity be still
lacking, is there not also still lacking – humanity itself?”
[Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Of the Thousand and One Goals.]
Wars must be fought to unify multifarious peoples. Loving ones are the force behind such wars, and those who master the power of praising and blaming so as to give humanity the goal of the ubermensch are the greatest of them.
My best friends are sympathetic.
Our similarity adds to the momentum of such a river,
But it wants me not, for it already has me.
These friends are not lovers, there is no hungry desire.
This is the stream of Narcis, but it is moving unto the ocean.
‘“Why so hard!”—said to the diamond one day the charcoal; “are we then not near relatives?”—Why so soft? O my brethren; thus do I ask you: are ye then not—my brethren?
Why so soft, so submissive and yielding? Why is there so much negation and abnegation in your hearts? Why is there so little fate in your looks?
And if ye will not be fates and inexorable ones, how can ye one day—conquer with me?
And if your hardness will not glance and cut and chip to pieces, how can ye one day—create with me?
For the creators are hard. And blessedness must it seem to you to press your hand upon millenniums as upon wax,—
Blessedness to write upon the will of millenniums as upon brass,—harder than brass, nobler than brass. Entirely hard is only the noblest.
This new table, O my brethren, put I up over you: Become hard!—’
-Zarathustra, Old and New Tables, 29.
