I no longer feel as you do; the very cloud which I see beneath me, the blackness and heaviness at which I laugh- that is your thunder-cloud.
You look aloft when you long for elevation; and I look downward because I am elevated.
Who among you can at the same time laugh and be elevated? He, who climbs high mountains, laughs at all tragic plays and tragic realities.
Brave, unconcerned, mocking, violent- thus wisdom wants us; wisdom is a woman, and always loves only a warrior. You tell me, "Life is hard to bear." But why should you have your pride in the morning and your resignation in the evening?
Life is hard to bear: but do not pretend to be so delicate! We are all of us beasts of burden, asses and she-asses.
What do we have in common with the rose-bud, which trembles because a drop of dew lies on it? It is true we love life; not because we are wont to live, but because we are wont to love. There is always some madness in love. But there is always, also, some method in madness. And to me also, who appreciates life, the butterflies, and soap-bubbles, and whatever is like them, seem to know most about happiness.
To see these light, foolish, mobile little souls flit about- that moves me to tears and songs.
I would only believe in a God who could dance. And when I saw my devil, I found him serious, thorough, profound, solemn: he was the spirit of gravity- through him all things fall.
Not by wrath, but by laughter, do we kill. Come, let us kill the spirit of gravity!
I learned to walk; since then have I let myself run. I learned to fly; since then I do not need to be moved along.
Now I am light, now I fly, now I see myself beneath myself, now a god dances through me.
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