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RETURN HOMEWARD 269
I called them searchers and examiners. Thus I learned to exchange words.
The grave-diggers get sicknesses by digging. Under old rubbish there rest bad odours. One must not stir up the swamp. One must live on mountains.
With blessed nostrils I breathe again mountain-free- dom. Saved, at last, is my nose from the odour of all human kind !
Tickled by sharp breezes, as it were by sparkling wines, my soul sneezeth. It sneezeth and in triumph crieth : ' God bless me ! ' '
Thus spake Zarathustra.
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