It Is My Ambition To Say In

In Order To Be Able Thus To Misjudge, And Thus To Grant Left-handed Veneration To Our Classics, People Must Have Ceased To Know Them. This, Generally Speaking, Is Precisely What Has Happened. For, Otherwise, One Ought To Know That There Is Only One Way Of Honoring Them, And That Is To Continue Seeking With The Same Spirit And With The Same Courage, And Not To Weary Of The Search.

If You Go To See The Woman, Do Not Forget The Whip.

Deception, Flattering, Lying, Deluding, Talking Behind The Back, Putting Up A False Front, Living In Borrowed Splendor, Wearing A Mask, Hiding Behind Convention, Playing A Role For Others And For Oneself -- In Short, A Continuous Fluttering Around The Solitary Flame Of Vanity -- Is So Much The Rule And The Law Among Men That There Is Almost Nothing Which Is Less Comprehensible Than How An Honest And Pure Drive For Truth Could Have Arisen Among Them.

What Then Is Truth? A Movable Host Of Metaphors, Metonymies, And Anthropomorphisms: In Short, A Sum Of Human Relations Which Have Been Poetically And Rhetorically Intensified, Transferred, And Embellished, And Which, After Long Usage, Seem To A People To Be Fixed, Canonical, And Binding. Truths Are Illusions Which We Have Forgotten Are Illusions — They Are Metaphors That Have Become Worn Out And Have Been Drained Of Sensuous Force.

Have You Heard Of That Madman Who Lit A Lantern In The Bright Morning Hours, Ran To The Market Place, And Cried Incessantly, I Seek God! I Seek God! As Many Of Those Who Do Not Believe In God Were Standing Around Just Then, He Provoked Much Laughter... Whither Is God, He Cried. I Shall Tell You. We Have Killed Him - You And I. All Of Us Are Murderers.... God Is Dead. God Remains Dead. And We Have Killed Him.