The Higher Man

When I came unto men for the first time, then did I commit the anchorite folly, the great folly: I appeared on the market-place.

When I first came among people, I made the hermit's mistake, the great mistake: I appeared in the marketplace.

And when I spake unto all, I spake unto none. In the evening, however, rope-dancers were my companions, and corpses; and I myself almost a corpse.

And when I spoke to all, I spoke to no one. In the evening, however, rope-dancers and corpses were my companions. I was almost a corpse myself.

With the new morning, however, there came unto me a new truth: then did I learn to say: “Of what account to me are market-place and populace and populace-noise and long populace-ears!”

But with the new morning, a new truth came to me. I learned to say: “What do I care about the marketplace, the crowd, its noise, and its long ears!”

Ye higher men, learn THIS from me: On the market-place no one believeth in higher men. But if ye will speak there, very well! The populace, however, blinketh: “We are all equal.”

You higher men, learn THIS from me: In the marketplace, no one believes in higher men. But if you want to speak there, fine! The crowd, however, blinks and says, “We are all equal.”

“Ye higher men,”—so blinketh the populace—“there are no higher men, we are all equal; man is man, before God—we are all equal!”

“Higher men,” the crowd says, blinking, “there are no higher men. We are all equal. A person is a person. Before God, we are all equal!”

Before God!—Now, however, this God hath died. Before the populace, however, we will not be equal. Ye higher men, away from the market-place!

Before God! But now God is dead. We will not be equal before the people. You higher men, leave the marketplace!

Before God!—Now however this God hath died! Ye higher men, this God was your greatest danger.

Before God! But now this God has died! You higher men, this God was your greatest danger.

Only since he lay in the grave have ye again arisen. Now only cometh the great noontide, now only doth the higher man become—master!

Only since he was laid in the grave have you risen again. Only now does the great noontide come. Only now does the higher man become master!

Have ye understood this word, O my brethren? Ye are frightened: do your hearts turn giddy? Doth the abyss here yawn for you? Doth the hell-hound here yelp at you?

Have you understood these words, my brothers? You are frightened. Do your hearts feel dizzy? Does the abyss open before you? Does the hell-hound yelp at you here?

Well! Take heart! ye higher men! Now only travaileth the mountain of the human future. God hath died: now do WE desire—the Superman to live.

Well! Take heart, higher men! Only now is the mountain of humanity's future in labor. God has died. Now WE want the Superman to live.

The most careful ask to-day: “How is man to be maintained?” Zarathustra however asketh, as the first and only one: “How is man to be SURPASSED?”

The most cautious people today ask: “How can humanity be preserved?” But Zarathustra is the first and only one to ask: “How can humanity be SURPASSED?”

The Superman, I have at heart; THAT is the first and only thing to me—and NOT man: not the neighbour, not the poorest, not the sorriest, not the best.—

The Superman is what I care about. The Superman is the first and only thing that matters to me, NOT man: not my neighbor, not the poorest, not the most wretched, not the best.

O my brethren, what I can love in man is that he is an over-going and a down-going. And also in you there is much that maketh me love and hope.

My brothers, what I can love in humanity is that it is both a crossing over and a going under. And in you, too, there is much that makes me love and hope.

In that ye have despised, ye higher men, that maketh me hope. For the great despisers are the great reverers.

The fact that you have despised, you higher men, gives me hope. For those who despise most deeply also revere most deeply.

In that ye have despaired, there is much to honour. For ye have not learned to submit yourselves, ye have not learned petty policy.

There is much to honor in your despair. For you have not learned to submit, and you have not learned petty tactics.

For to-day have the petty people become master: they all preach submission and humility and policy and diligence and consideration and the long et cetera of petty virtues.

For today, petty people have become the masters. They all preach submission, humility, prudence, diligence, consideration, and the long list of other petty virtues.

Whatever is of the effeminate type, whatever originateth from the servile type, and especially the populace-mishmash:—THAT wisheth now to be master of all human destiny—O disgust! Disgust! Disgust!

Everything effeminate, everything born of the servile type, and especially the mixed-up masses: ALL of it now wants to rule human destiny. Oh, disgust! Disgust! Disgust!

THAT asketh and asketh and never tireth: “How is man to maintain himself best, longest, most pleasantly?” Thereby—are they the masters of to-day.

THAT asks and asks, never tiring: “How can people preserve themselves best, longest, and most pleasantly?” By doing so, they are today’s masters.

These masters of to-day—surpass them, O my brethren—these petty people: THEY are the Superman’s greatest danger!

Surpass today's masters, my brothers. These petty people are the Superman's greatest danger!

Surpass, ye higher men, the petty virtues, the petty policy, the sand-grain considerateness, the ant-hill trumpery, the pitiable comfortableness, the “happiness of the greatest number”—!

Higher men, rise above petty virtues and petty politics. Rise above concern for the tiniest details, the petty nonsense of the anthill, and pitiful comfort. Rise above the “happiness of the greatest number”!

And rather despair than submit yourselves. And verily, I love you, because ye know not to-day how to live, ye higher men! For thus do YE live—best!

And choose despair rather than submit. I truly love you, higher men, because you do not know how to live today. For this is how YOU live best!

Have ye courage, O my brethren? Are ye stout-hearted? NOT the courage before witnesses, but anchorite and eagle courage, which not even a God any longer beholdeth?

Do you have courage, my brothers? Are you strong of heart? Not the courage you show before witnesses, but the courage of a hermit and an eagle, which not even a God sees anymore?

Cold souls, mules, the blind and the drunken, I do not call stout-hearted. He hath heart who knoweth fear, but VANQUISHETH it; who seeth the abyss, but with PRIDE.

I do not call cold souls, mules, the blind, or the drunk brave. A person has courage who knows fear but CONQUERS it, who sees the abyss but faces it with PRIDE.

He who seeth the abyss, but with eagle’s eyes,—he who with eagle’s talons GRASPETH the abyss: he hath courage.—

The one who sees the abyss with an eagle’s eyes and GRASPS it with an eagle’s talons has courage.

“Man is evil”—so said to me for consolation, all the wisest ones. Ah, if only it be still true to-day! For the evil is man’s best force.

“Man is evil,” all the wisest people told me to console me. Ah, if only that were still true today! For evil is man’s greatest strength.

“Man must become better and eviler”—so do I teach. The evilest is necessary for the Superman’s best.

“Man must become better and more evil.” This is what I teach. The worst evil is necessary for the Superman’s best.

It may have been well for the preacher of the petty people to suffer and be burdened by men’s sin. I, however, rejoice in great sin as my great CONSOLATION.—

It may have been good for the preacher of small-minded people to suffer and bear the burden of human sin. But I rejoice in great sin as my great CONSOLATION.

Such things, however, are not said for long ears. Every word, also, is not suited for every mouth. These are fine far-away things: at them sheep’s claws shall not grasp!

But such things are not said for long ears. And not every word belongs in every mouth. These are delicate, distant things: sheep’s claws must not grasp at them!

Ye higher men, think ye that I am here to put right what ye have put wrong?

Higher men, do you think I am here to fix what you have done wrong?

Or that I wished henceforth to make snugger couches for you sufferers? Or show you restless, miswandering, misclimbing ones, new and easier footpaths?

Or that I wanted to make more comfortable couches for you who suffer? Or show you restless people, wandering and climbing the wrong way, new and easier paths?

Nay! Nay! Three times Nay! Always more, always better ones of your type shall succumb,—for ye shall always have it worse and harder. Thus only—

No! No! Three times no! More and better people of your kind will always succumb, because things will always be worse and harder for you. Only in this way...

—Thus only groweth man aloft to the height where the lightning striketh and shattereth him: high enough for the lightning!

Only in this way does man rise to the height where lightning strikes and shatters him: high enough for lightning!

Towards the few, the long, the remote go forth my soul and my seeking: of what account to me are your many little, short miseries!

My soul and my search reach toward the few, the long, and the distant. What do your many small, brief miseries matter to me!

Ye do not yet suffer enough for me! For ye suffer from yourselves, ye have not yet suffered FROM MAN. Ye would lie if ye spake otherwise! None of you suffereth from what I have suffered.—

You do not yet suffer enough for me! For you suffer from yourselves. You have not yet suffered FROM MAN. You would be lying if you said otherwise! None of you suffers from what I have suffered.

It is not enough for me that the lightning no longer doeth harm. I do not wish to conduct it away: it shall learn—to work for ME.—

It is not enough for me that lightning no longer does harm. I do not want to divert it. It must learn to work for ME.

My wisdom hath accumulated long like a cloud, it becometh stiller and darker. So doeth all wisdom which shall one day bear LIGHTNINGS.—

My wisdom has been gathering for a long time like a cloud, growing stiller and darker. So does all wisdom that will one day bear LIGHTNING.

Unto these men of to-day will I not be LIGHT, nor be called light. THEM—will I blind: lightning of my wisdom! put out their eyes!

I will not be a LIGHT to the men of today, nor will I be called light. I will blind THEM. Lightning of my wisdom, put out their eyes!

Do not will anything beyond your power: there is a bad falseness in those who will beyond their power.

Do not desire anything beyond your power. There is something deeply false in those who desire what is beyond their power.

Especially when they will great things! For they awaken distrust in great things, these subtle false-coiners and stage-players:—

Especially when they will great things! For these subtle counterfeiters and actors make people distrust great things:

—Until at last they are false towards themselves, squint-eyed, whited cankers, glossed over with strong words, parade virtues and brilliant false deeds.

Until at last they are false even to themselves, cross-eyed and rotten beneath a whitewashed surface, covered over with grand words, showy virtues, and brilliant false deeds.

Take good care there, ye higher men! For nothing is more precious to me, and rarer, than honesty.

Be careful, you higher men! For nothing is more precious or rarer to me than honesty.

Is this to-day not that of the populace? The populace however knoweth not what is great and what is small, what is straight and what is honest: it is innocently crooked, it ever lieth.

Is today not the age of the masses? But the masses do not know what is great and what is small, what is straight and what is honest. They are innocently crooked and always lie.

Have a good distrust to-day ye, higher men, ye enheartened ones! Ye open-hearted ones! And keep your reasons secret! For this to-day is that of the populace.

Be wary today, you higher men, you who have found courage! You open-hearted ones! And keep your reasons secret! For today belongs to the masses.

What the populace once learned to believe without reasons, who could— refute it to them by means of reasons?

Once people have learned to believe something without reasons, who could convince them it is false through reasoning?

And on the market-place one convinceth with gestures. But reasons make the populace distrustful.

And in the marketplace, people are persuaded by gestures. But reasons make the crowd distrustful.

And when truth hath once triumphed there, then ask yourselves with good distrust: “What strong error hath fought for it?”

And when truth has triumphed there, ask yourselves with healthy suspicion: “What powerful error fought for it?”

Be on your guard also against the learned! They hate you, because they are unproductive! They have cold, withered eyes before which every bird is unplumed.

Watch out for the learned too! They hate you because they are unproductive! Their eyes are cold and withered, and before them every bird loses its feathers.

Such persons vaunt about not lying: but inability to lie is still far from being love to truth. Be on your guard!

Such people boast that they do not lie. But being unable to lie is still far from loving the truth. Be on your guard!

Freedom from fever is still far from being knowledge! Refrigerated spirits I do not believe in. He who cannot lie, doth not know what truth is.

Being free from fever is still a long way from having knowledge! I do not believe in cold spirits. Anyone who cannot lie does not know what truth is.

If ye would go up high, then use your own legs! Do not get yourselves CARRIED aloft; do not seat yourselves on other people’s backs and heads!

If you want to climb high, use your own legs! Do not let yourselves be CARRIED up. Do not sit on other people’s backs and heads!

Thou hast mounted, however, on horseback? Thou now ridest briskly up to thy goal? Well, my friend! But thy lame foot is also with thee on horseback!

But have you mounted a horse? Are you now riding briskly toward your goal? Well, my friend! But your lame foot is on the horse with you!

When thou reachest thy goal, when thou alightest from thy horse: precisely on thy HEIGHT, thou higher man,—then wilt thou stumble!

When you reach your goal and get off your horse, higher man, you will stumble precisely at your HEIGHT!

Ye creating ones, ye higher men! One is only pregnant with one’s own child.

You creators, you higher men! A person can only be pregnant with their own child.

Do not let yourselves be imposed upon or put upon! Who then is YOUR neighbour? Even if ye act “for your neighbour”—ye still do not create for him!

Do not let others take advantage of you or burden you! Who, then, is YOUR neighbor? Even if you act “for your neighbor,” you still do not create for him!

Unlearn, I pray you, this “for,” ye creating ones: your very virtue wisheth you to have naught to do with “for” and “on account of” and “because.” Against these false little words shall ye stop your ears.

I ask you, creators, to unlearn this “for.” Your very virtue wants you to have nothing to do with “for” and “on account of” and “because.” Close your ears to these false little words.

“For one’s neighbour,” is the virtue only of the petty people: there it is said “like and like,” and “hand washeth hand”:—they have neither the right nor the power for YOUR self-seeking!

“​​For one’s neighbor” is a virtue only for petty people. Among them, the sayings are “like and like” and “one hand washes the other.” They have neither the right nor the power to pursue YOUR self-interest!

In your self-seeking, ye creating ones, there is the foresight and foreseeing of the pregnant! What no one’s eye hath yet seen, namely, the fruit—this, sheltereth and saveth and nourisheth your entire love.

You creators, in seeking yourselves, you have the foresight of someone who is pregnant. The fruit is something no eye has yet seen. Your whole love shelters, protects, and nourishes it.

Where your entire love is, namely, with your child, there is also your entire virtue! Your work, your will is YOUR “neighbour”: let no false values impose upon you!

All your love is with your child, and all your virtue is there too! Your work, your will, is YOUR “neighbor”: do not let false values be imposed on you!

Ye creating ones, ye higher men! Whoever hath to give birth is sick; whoever hath given birth, however, is unclean.

You creators, you higher men! Whoever is about to give birth is sick. But whoever has given birth is unclean.

Ask women: one giveth birth, not because it giveth pleasure. The pain maketh hens and poets cackle.

Ask women: they do not give birth because it gives them pleasure. Pain makes hens and poets cackle.

Ye creating ones, in you there is much uncleanliness. That is because ye have had to be mothers.

You who create, there is much uncleanliness in you. That is because you have had to be mothers.

A new child: oh, how much new filth hath also come into the world! Go apart! He who hath given birth shall wash his soul!

A new child: oh, how much new filth has also come into the world! Go away! The one who gave birth must wash his soul!

Be not virtuous beyond your powers! And seek nothing from yourselves opposed to probability!

Do not try to be more virtuous than you can be! And do not expect yourself to do what is unlikely!

Walk in the footsteps in which your fathers’ virtue hath already walked! How would ye rise high, if your fathers’ will should not rise with you?

Follow the path your fathers’ virtue has already taken! How could you rise high if your fathers’ will did not rise with you?

He, however, who would be a firstling, let him take care lest he also become a lastling! And where the vices of your fathers are, there should ye not set up as saints!

But whoever wants to be first should take care not to become last as well! And where your fathers had vices, you should not pose as saints!

He whose fathers were inclined for women, and for strong wine and flesh of wildboar swine; what would it be if he demanded chastity of himself?

A man's ancestors had a taste for women, strong wine, and wild boar meat. What if he demanded chastity of himself?

A folly would it be! Much, verily, doth it seem to me for such a one, if he should be the husband of one or of two or of three women.

That would be foolish! Indeed, it seems like a lot for such a man to be the husband of one, two, or three women.

And if he founded monasteries, and inscribed over their portals: “The way to holiness,”—I should still say: What good is it! it is a new folly!

And if he founded monasteries and wrote “The way to holiness” above their entrances, I would still say: What good is that! It is another folly!

He hath founded for himself a penance-house and refuge-house: much good may it do! But I do not believe in it.

He has built himself a house for penance and refuge. May it do him good! But I don't believe in it.

In solitude there groweth what any one bringeth into it—also the brute in one’s nature. Thus is solitude inadvisable unto many.

In solitude, whatever a person brings into it grows. This includes the brute in their nature. For this reason, solitude is unwise for many people.

Hath there ever been anything filthier on earth than the saints of the wilderness? AROUND THEM was not only the devil loose—but also the swine.

Has there ever been anything filthier on earth than the saints of the wilderness? AROUND THEM, not only the devil but also the pigs ran loose.

Shy, ashamed, awkward, like the tiger whose spring hath failed—thus, ye higher men, have I often seen you slink aside. A CAST which ye made had failed.

Higher men, I have often seen you slink away, shy, ashamed, and awkward, like a tiger whose leap has failed. A CAST you made had failed.

But what doth it matter, ye dice-players! Ye had not learned to play and mock, as one must play and mock! Do we not ever sit at a great table of mocking and playing?

But what does it matter, you dice players! You never learned to play and mock as you must! Aren't we always sitting at a great table of mockery and play?

And if great things have been a failure with you, have ye yourselves therefore—been a failure? And if ye yourselves have been a failure, hath man therefore—been a failure? If man, however, hath been a failure: well then! never mind!

And if you have failed at great things, does that mean you yourselves are failures? And if you yourselves are failures, does that mean humanity is a failure? But if humanity is a failure, well then! Never mind!

The higher its type, always the seldomer doth a thing succeed. Ye higher men here, have ye not all—been failures?

The higher a thing’s type, the less often it succeeds. You higher men here, haven’t you all been failures?

Be of good cheer; what doth it matter? How much is still possible! Learn to laugh at yourselves, as ye ought to laugh!

Cheer up. What does it matter? So much is still possible! Learn to laugh at yourselves, as you should!

What wonder even that ye have failed and only half-succeeded, ye half-shattered ones! Doth not—man’s FUTURE strive and struggle in you?

Is it any wonder that you have failed and only half succeeded, you half-shattered ones! Isn't humanity's FUTURE striving and struggling within you?

Man’s furthest, profoundest, star-highest issues, his prodigious powers—do not all these foam through one another in your vessel?

Humanity’s most far-reaching, deepest, star-highest concerns and its enormous powers. Don’t they all foam together in your vessel?

What wonder that many a vessel shattereth! Learn to laugh at yourselves, as ye ought to laugh! Ye higher men, O, how much is still possible!

No wonder so many vessels shatter! Learn to laugh at yourselves, as you should! You higher men, oh, how much is still possible!

And verily, how much hath already succeeded! How rich is this earth in small, good, perfect things, in well-constituted things!

And truly, how much has already succeeded! How rich this earth is in small, good, perfect things, in things that are well made!

Set around you small, good, perfect things, ye higher men. Their golden maturity healeth the heart. The perfect teacheth one to hope.

Surround yourselves with small, good, perfect things, you higher men. Their golden maturity heals the heart. What is perfect teaches us to hope.

What hath hitherto been the greatest sin here on earth? Was it not the word of him who said: “Woe unto them that laugh now!”

What has been the greatest sin on earth so far? Was it not the words of the man who said: “Misery awaits those who laugh now!”

Did he himself find no cause for laughter on the earth? Then he sought badly. A child even findeth cause for it.

Did he find nothing to laugh at on earth? Then he did not look hard enough. Even a child can find something to laugh at.

He—did not love sufficiently: otherwise would he also have loved us, the laughing ones! But he hated and hooted us; wailing and teeth-gnashing did he promise us.

He did not love enough. Otherwise, he would have loved us too, the ones who laugh! But he hated and mocked us. He promised us wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Must one then curse immediately, when one doth not love? That—seemeth to me bad taste. Thus did he, however, this absolute one. He sprang from the populace.

Must one immediately curse what one does not love? That seems to me to be in bad taste. But that is what this absolute one did. He came from the common people.

And he himself just did not love sufficiently; otherwise would he have raged less because people did not love him. All great love doth not SEEK love:—it seeketh more.

And he himself simply did not love enough. Otherwise, he would have been less angry that people did not love him. No great love SEEKS love: it seeks more.

Go out of the way of all such absolute ones! They are a poor sickly type, a populace-type: they look at this life with ill-will, they have an evil eye for this earth.

Stay away from all such absolute people! They are a poor, sickly type, the type found among the masses. They look at this life with hostility, and they cast an evil eye on this earth.

Go out of the way of all such absolute ones! They have heavy feet and sultry hearts:—they do not know how to dance. How could the earth be light to such ones!

Stay out of the way of all such absolute people! They have heavy feet and stifling hearts. They do not know how to dance. How could the earth feel light to them!

Tortuously do all good things come nigh to their goal. Like cats they curve their backs, they purr inwardly with their approaching happiness,—all good things laugh.

All good things take a winding path toward their goal. Like cats, they arch their backs and purr inwardly as happiness approaches. All good things laugh.

His step betrayeth whether a person already walketh on HIS OWN path: just see me walk! He, however, who cometh nigh to his goal, danceth.

You can tell by a person's step whether they are already walking their OWN path. Just watch me walk! But whoever comes close to their goal dances.

And verily, a statue have I not become, not yet do I stand there stiff, stupid and stony, like a pillar; I love fast racing.

And truly, I have not become a statue. I do not yet stand stiff, stupid, and stony like a pillar. I love racing at full speed.

And though there be on earth fens and dense afflictions, he who hath light feet runneth even across the mud, and danceth, as upon well-swept ice.

And though there are marshes and deep suffering on earth, a person with light feet can run across the mud and dance as if on freshly swept ice.

Lift up your hearts, my brethren, high, higher! And do not forget your legs! Lift up also your legs, ye good dancers, and better still, if ye stand upon your heads!

Lift your hearts, my brothers, high, higher! And don't forget your legs! Lift your legs too, you good dancers. And better still if you stand on your heads!

This crown of the laughter, this rose-garland crown: I myself have put on this crown, I myself have consecrated my laughter. No one else have I found to-day potent enough for this.

This crown of laughter, this crown of roses: I put it on myself. I made my laughter sacred myself. Today, I found no one else powerful enough to do it.

Zarathustra the dancer, Zarathustra the light one, who beckoneth with his pinions, one ready for flight, beckoning unto all birds, ready and prepared, a blissfully light-spirited one:—

Zarathustra the dancer, Zarathustra the light one, beckons with his wings. He is ready to fly, beckoning to all birds, ready and prepared, blissfully lighthearted:

Zarathustra the soothsayer, Zarathustra the sooth-laugher, no impatient one, no absolute one, one who loveth leaps and side-leaps; I myself have put on this crown!

Zarathustra the truth-teller, Zarathustra the truth-laugher, neither impatient nor absolute, a lover of leaps and side leaps. I myself have put on this crown!

Lift up your hearts, my brethren, high, higher! And do not forget your legs! Lift up also your legs, ye good dancers, and better still if ye stand upon your heads!

Lift your hearts, my brothers, high, higher! And don't forget your legs! Lift your legs too, you good dancers. Better still, stand on your heads!

There are also heavy animals in a state of happiness, there are club-footed ones from the beginning. Curiously do they exert themselves, like an elephant which endeavoureth to stand upon its head.

There are also heavy animals that are happy. Some are club-footed from birth. They make a strange effort, like an elephant trying to stand on its head.

Better, however, to be foolish with happiness than foolish with misfortune, better to dance awkwardly than walk lamely. So learn, I pray you, my wisdom, ye higher men: even the worst thing hath two good reverse sides,—

Still, it is better to be foolish with happiness than foolish with misfortune. It is better to dance awkwardly than to walk with a limp. So please learn my wisdom, you higher men: even the worst thing has two good sides.

—Even the worst thing hath good dancing-legs: so learn, I pray you, ye higher men, to put yourselves on your proper legs!

Even the worst thing has good legs for dancing. So please, you higher men, learn to stand on your own legs!

So unlearn, I pray you, the sorrow-sighing, and all the populace-sadness! Oh, how sad the buffoons of the populace seem to me to-day! This to-day, however, is that of the populace.

So please unlearn your mournful sighing and all the sadness of the crowd! Oh, how sad the crowd’s clowns seem to me today! But today belongs to the crowd.

Do like unto the wind when it rusheth forth from its mountain-caves: unto its own piping will it dance; the seas tremble and leap under its footsteps.

Be like the wind when it rushes out of its mountain caves. It dances to its own music. The seas tremble and leap beneath its footsteps.

That which giveth wings to asses, that which milketh the lionesses:— praised be that good, unruly spirit, which cometh like a hurricane unto all the present and unto all the populace,—

Praise the good, unruly spirit that gives donkeys wings and milks lionesses. It comes like a hurricane against all of the present and all the people.

—Which is hostile to thistle-heads and puzzle-heads, and to all withered leaves and weeds:—praised be this wild, good, free spirit of the storm, which danceth upon fens and afflictions, as upon meadows!

It is hostile to thistle-heads and puzzle-heads, and to all withered leaves and weeds. Praise this wild, good, free spirit of the storm, which dances on marshes and afflictions as if they were meadows!

Which hateth the consumptive populace-dogs, and all the ill-constituted, sullen brood:—praised be this spirit of all free spirits, the laughing storm, which bloweth dust into the eyes of all the melanopic and melancholic!

Which hates the consumptive mob-dogs and all the ill-formed, sullen brood. Praise this spirit of all free spirits, the laughing storm that blows dust into the eyes of all the dark-looking and melancholy!

Ye higher men, the worst thing in you is that ye have none of you learned to dance as ye ought to dance—to dance beyond yourselves! What doth it matter that ye have failed!

You higher men, the worst thing about you is that none of you has learned to dance as you should. You must dance beyond yourselves! What does it matter that you have failed!

How many things are still possible! So LEARN to laugh beyond yourselves! Lift up your hearts, ye good dancers, high! higher! And do not forget the good laughter!

So many things are still possible! So LEARN to laugh beyond yourselves! Lift your hearts high, good dancers! Higher! And do not forget good laughter!

This crown of the laughter, this rose-garland crown: to you my brethren do I cast this crown! Laughing have I consecrated; ye higher men, LEARN, I pray you—to laugh!

This crown of laughter, this crown of roses: I toss it to you, my brothers! I have made laughter sacred. You higher men, please LEARN to laugh!