Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
Our Ultimate Gratitude to Art. — If we had not approved of the Arts and invented this sort of cult of the untrue, the insight into the general untruth and falsity of things now given us by science — an insight into delusion and error as conditions of intelligent and sentient existence — would be quite unendurable. Honesty would have disgust and suicide in its train. Now, however, our honesty has a counterpoise which helps us to escape such consequences; — namely Art, as the good-will to illusion. We do not always restrain our eyes from rounding off and perfecting in imagination: and then it is no longer the eternal imperfection that we carry over the river of Becoming — for we think we carry a goddess and are proud and artless in rendering this service. As an aesthetic phenomenon existence is still endurable to us; and by Art, eye and hand and above all the good conscience are given to us, to be able to make such a phenomenon out of ourselves. We must rest from ourselves occasionally by contemplating and looking down upon ourselves, and by laughing or weeping over ourselves from an artistic remoteness : we must discover the hero, and likewise the fool, that is hidden in our passion for knowledge; we must now and then be joyful in our folly, that we may continue to be joyful in our wisdom! And just because we are heavy and serious men in our ultimate depth, and are rather weights than men, there is nothing that does us so much good as the fools cap and bells: we need them in presence of ourselves — we need all arrogant, soaring, dancing, mocking, childish and blessed Art, in order not to lose free dominion over things which our ideal demands of us. It would be backsliding for us with our susceptible integrity, to lapse entirely into morality, and actually become virtuous monsters and scarecrows, on account of the over-strict requirements which we here lay down for ourselves. We ought also to be able to stand above morality, and not only stand with the painful stiffness of one who every moment fears to slip and fall, but we should also be able to soar and play above it! How could we dispense with Art for that purpose, how could we dispense with the fool? — And as long as you are still ashamed of yourselves in any way, you still do not belong to us!