You had not yet sought yourselves: then you found me. So do all believers; thus all belief matters so little.
Now I bid you lose me and find yourselves; and only when you have all denied me will I return to you.
With other eyes, my brothers, shall I then seek my lost ones; with another love shall I then love you.
And once again you shall become friends to me, and children of one hope: then I will be with you for the third time, to celebrate the great noontide with you.
And it is the great noontide, when man is in the middle of his course between animal and Superman, and celebrates his advance to the evening as his highest hope: for it is the advance to a new morning.
Then will the down-goer bless himself, for being an over-goer; and the sun of his knowledge will be at noontide.
"Dead are all Gods: now we want the Superman to live."—Let this be our final will at the great noontide!—
Thus spake Zarathustra.
