Many things in your good people cause me disgust, and verily, not their
evil. I would that they had a madness by which they succumbed, like this
pale criminal!

Verily, I would that their madness were called truth, or fidelity, or
justice: but they have their virtue in order to live long, and in wretched
self-complacency.

I am a railing alongside the torrent; whoever is able to grasp me may grasp
me! Your crutch, however, I am not.--

Thus spake Zarathustra.


VII. READING AND WRITING.

Of all that is written, I love only what a person hath written with his
blood. Write with blood, and thou wilt find that blood is spirit.

It is no easy task to understand unfamiliar blood; I hate the reading
idlers.

He who knoweth the reader, doeth nothing more for the reader. Another
century of readers--and spirit itself will stink.

Every one being allowed to learn to read, ruineth in the long run not only
writing but also thinking.

Once spirit was God, then it became man, and now it even becometh populace.