And you wise and knowing ones, you would flee from the solar-glow of the wisdom in which the Superman joyfully baths his nakedness!
You highest men who have come within my ken! this is my doubt of you, and my secret laughter: I suspect you would call my Superman- a devil!
Ah, I became tired of those highest and best ones: from their "height" did I long to be up, out, and away to the Superman!
A horror came over me when I saw those best ones naked: then there grew for me the pinions to soar away into distant futures.
Into more distant futures, into more southern souths than ever artist dreamed of: there, where gods are ashamed of all clothes!
But disguised do I want to see you, you neighbors and fellowmen, and well-attired and vain and estimable, as "the good and just;"-
And disguised will I myself sit amongst you- that I may mistake you and myself: for that is my last manly prudence.-
Thus spoke Zarathustra.
44. The Stillest Hour
WHAT has happened to me, my friends? You see me troubled, driven forth, unwillingly obedient, ready to go- alas, to go away from you!
Yes, once more must Zarathustra retire to his solitude: but unjoyously this time does the bear go back to his cave!
