But of time and of becoming shall the best parables speak: a praise shall they be, and a justification of all perishing!
Creating- that is the great salvation from suffering, and life's alleviation. But for the creator to appear, suffering itself is needed, and much transformation.
Yes, much bitter dying must there be in your life, you creators! Thus are you advocates and justifiers of all perishing.
For the creator himself to be the new-born child, he must also be willing to be the child-bearer, and endure the pangs of the child-bearer.
Through a hundred souls went I my way, and through a hundred cradles and birth-throes. Many a farewell have I taken; I know the heart-breaking last hours.
But so wills it my creating Will, my fate. Or, to tell you it more candidly: just such a fate- wills my Will.
All feeling suffers in me, and is in prison: but my willing ever comes to me as my emancipator and comforter.
Willing emancipates: that is the true doctrine of will and emancipation- so teaches you Zarathustra.
No longer willing, and no longer valuing, and no longer creating! Ah, that that great debility may ever be far from me!
And also in discerning do I feel only my will's procreating and evolving delight; and if there be innocence in my knowledge, it is because there is will to procreation in it.
Away from God and gods did this will allure me; what would there be to create if there were- gods!
But to man does it ever impel me anew, my fervent creative will; thus impels it the hammer to the stone.
Ah, you men, within the stone slumbers an image for me, the image of my visions! Ah, that it should slumber in the hardest, ugliest stone!
