Let your love to life be love to your highest hope; and let your highest hope be the highest thought of life!
Your highest thought, however, ye shall have it commanded unto you by me—and it is this: man is something
that is to be surpassed. So live your life of obedience and of war! What matter about long life! What warrior wisheth to be spared! I spare you not, I love you from my very heart, my brethren in war!
Beyond yourselves shall ye love some day! Then learn first of all to love. And on that account ye had to drink he bitter cup of your love.
“Fellow-suffering! Fellow-suffering with the higher men!” he cried out, and his countenance changed into brass. “Well! That—hath had its time! My suffering and my fellow-suffering—what matter about them! Do I then strive after happiness? I strive after my work! Well! The lion hath come, my children are nigh, Zarathustra hath grown ripe, mine hour hath come:— This is my morning, MY day beginneth: arise now, arise, thou great noontide!”— Thus spake Zarathustra.
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