"In the Dionysiac dithyramb man is stimulated to the highest intensification of his symbolic powers; something that he has never felt before urgently demands to be expressed: the destruction of the veil of maya, one-ness as the genius of humankind, indeed of nature itself. The essence of nature is bent on expressing itself; a new world of symbols is required, firstly the symbolism of the entire body, not just of the mouth, the face, the word, but the full gesture of dance with its rhythmical movement of every limb. Then there is a sudden, tempestuous growth in music’s other symbolic powers, in rhythm, dynamics, and harmony. To comprehend this complete unchaining of all symbolic powers, a man must already have reached that height of self-abandonment which seeks symbolic expression in those powers: thus the dithyrambic servant of Dionysos can only be understood by his own kind! With what astonishment the Apolline Greeks must have regarded him! With an astonishment enlarged by the added horror of realizing that all this was not so foreign to them after all, indeed that their Apolline consciousness only hid this Dionysiac world from them like a veil."
—Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragdy, §2
“Praise of aphorisms—A good aphorism is too hard for the tooth of time and is not consumed by all millennia, although it serves ever time for nourishment: thus it is the great paradox of literature, the intransitory amid the changing, the food that always remains esteemed, like salt, and never loses its savor, as even that does.”
—Nietzsche, Mixed Opinions and Maxims, §168
We philosophers and ‘free spirits’ feel ourselves irradiated as by a new dawn by the report that ‘the old God is dead;’ our hearts overflow with gratitude, astonishment, presentiment, and expectation. At last the horizon seems open once more, granting even that it is not bright; our ships can at last put out to sea in the face of every danger; every hazard is again permitted to the discerner; the sea, our sea, again lies open before us; perhaps never before did such an ‘open sea’ exist.
Of all that is written I love only what a man has written with his blood. Write with blood, and you will experience that blood is spirit.
One often contradicts an opinion when it is really only the tone in which it has been presented that is unsympathetic.
Anonymous asked: but... where is twilight of the idols?
"Have you ever seen your friend asleep—and found out how he looks? What is the face of your friend anyway? It is your own face in a rough and imperfect mirror.
Have you ever seen your friend asleep? Were you not shocked that your friend looks like that? O my friend, man is something that must be overcome.”
- Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra