2 of 6 in Chapter LXI. THE HONEY SACRIFICE439 of 593 in work
Heavy Happiness
Friedrich Nietzsche
Thus Spake Zarathustra

Zarathustra clarifies that his 'heavy' happiness is not a burden of misery but the 'honey' of ripeness, suggesting that his stillness and darkening appearance are signs of a soul filled with the weight of its own wisdom.

...h out on the sea, and away beyond sinuous abysses,—then went his animals thoughtfully round about him, and at last set themselves in front of him. “O Zarathustra,” said they, “gazest thou out perhaps for thy happiness?”—“Of what account is my happiness!” answered he, “I have long ceased to strive any more for happiness, I strive for my work.”—“O Zarathustra,” said the animals once more, “that sayest thou as one who hath overmuch of good things. Liest thou not in a sky-blue lake of happiness?”—
“Ye wags,” answered Zarathustra, and smiled, “how well did ye choose the simile! But ye know also that my happiness is heavy, and not like a fluid wave of water: it presseth me and will not leave me, and is like molten pitch.”— Then went his animals again thoughtfully around him, and placed themselves once more in front of him. “O Zarathustra,” said they, “it is consequently FOR THAT REASON that thou thyself always becometh yellower and darker, although thy hair looketh white and flaxen? Lo, thou sittest in thy pitch!”—“What do ye say, mine animals?” said Zarathustra, laughing; “verily I reviled when I spake of pitch. As it happeneth with me,…
—“So will it be, O Zarathustra,” answered his animals, and pressed up to him; “but wilt thou not to-day ascend a high mountain? The air is pure, and to-day one seeth more of the world than ever.”—“Yea, mine animals,” answered he, “ye counsel admirably and according to my heart: I will to-day ascend a high mountain! But see that honey is there ready to hand, yellow, white, good, ice-cool, golden-comb-honey. For know that when aloft I will make the honey sacrifice.”— When Zarathustra, however, w...
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3 of 6 in Chapter LXI. THE HONEY SACRIFICE440 of 593 in work
Squandering as Freedom
Friedrich Nietzsche
Thus Spake Zarathustra

Zarathustra reflects on his solitude, admitting that his previous talk of sacrifice was merely a rhetorical ruse. He views his actions not as a loss or sacrifice, but as the natural squandering of an overflowing and abundant spirit.

...r, and also my soul stiller.”—“So will it be, O Zarathustra,” answered his animals, and pressed up to him; “but wilt thou not to-day ascend a high mountain? The air is pure, and to-day one seeth more of the world than ever.”—“Yea, mine animals,” answered he, “ye counsel admirably and according to my heart: I will to-day ascend a high mountain! But see that honey is there ready to hand, yellow, white, good, ice-cool, golden-comb-honey. For know that when aloft I will make the honey sacrifice.”—
When Zarathustra, however, was aloft on the summit, he sent his animals home that had accompanied him, and found that he was now alone:—then he laughed from the bottom of his heart, looked around him, and spake thus: That I spake of sacrifices and honey-sacrifices, it was merely a ruse in talking and verily, a useful folly! Here aloft can I now speak freer than in front of mountain-caves and anchorites’ domestic animals. What to sacrifice! I squander what is given me, a squanderer with a thousand hands: how could I call that—sacrificing?
And when I desired honey I only desired bait, and sweet mucus and mucilage, for which even the mouths of growling bears, and strange, sulky, evil birds, water: —The best bait, as huntsmen and fishermen require it. For if the world be as a gloomy forest of animals, and a pleasure-ground for all wild huntsmen, it seemeth to me rather—and preferably—a fathomless, rich sea; —A sea full of many-hued fishes and crabs, for which even the Gods might long, and might be tempted to become fishers in it...
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4 of 6 in Chapter LXI. THE HONEY SACRIFICE441 of 593 in work
The Human Sea
Friedrich Nietzsche
Thus Spake Zarathustra

The author envisions the human world as a fathomless, rich sea of possibilities, casting a 'golden angle-rod' to fish for the wonderful things hidden in the human abyss.

...ces, it was merely a ruse in talking and verily, a useful folly! Here aloft can I now speak freer than in front of mountain-caves and anchorites’ domestic animals. What to sacrifice! I squander what is given me, a squanderer with a thousand hands: how could I call that—sacrificing? And when I desired honey I only desired bait, and sweet mucus and mucilage, for which even the mouths of growling bears, and strange, sulky, evil birds, water: —The best bait, as huntsmen and fishermen require it.
For if the world be as a gloomy forest of animals, and a pleasure-ground for all wild huntsmen, it seemeth to me rather—and preferably—a fathomless, rich sea; —A sea full of many-hued fishes and crabs, for which even the Gods might long, and might be tempted to become fishers in it, and casters of nets,—so rich is the world in wonderful things, great and small! Especially the human world, the human sea:—towards IT do I now throw out my golden angle-rod and say: Open up, thou human abyss! Open up, and throw unto me thy fish and shining crabs!
With my best bait shall I allure to myself to-day the strangest human fish! —My happiness itself do I throw out into all places far and wide ‘twixt orient, noontide, and occident, to see if many human fish will not learn to hug and tug at my happiness;— Until, biting at my sharp hidden hooks, they have to come up unto MY height, the motleyest abyss-groundlings, to the wickedest of all fishers of men. For THIS am I from the heart and from the beginning—drawing, hither-drawing, upward-drawing,...
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5 of 6 in Chapter LXI. THE HONEY SACRIFICE442 of 593 in work
The Fisher of Men
Friedrich Nietzsche
Thus Spake Zarathustra

The author describes his role as a 'fisher of men' who uses his own happiness as bait to draw others toward the heights of self-actualization and the command to 'become what thou art.'

...and a pleasure-ground for all wild huntsmen, it seemeth to me rather—and preferably—a fathomless, rich sea; —A sea full of many-hued fishes and crabs, for which even the Gods might long, and might be tempted to become fishers in it, and casters of nets,—so rich is the world in wonderful things, great and small! Especially the human world, the human sea:—towards IT do I now throw out my golden angle-rod and say: Open up, thou human abyss! Open up, and throw unto me thy fish and shining crabs!
With my best bait shall I allure to myself to-day the strangest human fish! —My happiness itself do I throw out into all places far and wide ‘twixt orient, noontide, and occident, to see if many human fish will not learn to hug and tug at my happiness;— Until, biting at my sharp hidden hooks, they have to come up unto MY height, the motleyest abyss-groundlings, to the wickedest of all fishers of men. For THIS am I from the heart and from the beginning—drawing, hither-drawing, upward-drawing, upbringing; a drawer, a trainer, a training-master, who not in vain counselled himself once on a time: “Become what thou art!”
Thus may men now come UP to me; for as yet do I await the signs that it is time for my down-going; as yet do I not myself go down, as I must do, amongst men. Therefore do I here wait, crafty and scornful upon high mountains, no impatient one, no patient one; rather one who hath even unlearnt patience,—because he no longer “suffereth.” For my fate giveth me time: it hath forgotten me perhaps? Or doth it sit behind a big stone and catch flies? And verily, I am well disposed to mine eternal f...
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6 of 6 in Chapter LXI. THE HONEY SACRIFICE443 of 593 in work
Fate's Forgotten Time
Friedrich Nietzsche
Thus Spake Zarathustra

The author expresses a patient and mischievous relationship with fate, preferring the 'folly' of his own path to the solemnity of those who wait for divine intervention.

...hither-drawing, upward-drawing, upbringing; a drawer, a trainer, a training-master, who not in vain counselled himself once on a time: “Become what thou art!” Thus may men now come UP to me; for as yet do I await the signs that it is time for my down-going; as yet do I not myself go down, as I must do, amongst men. Therefore do I here wait, crafty and scornful upon high mountains, no impatient one, no patient one; rather one who hath even unlearnt patience,—because he no longer “suffereth.”
For my fate giveth me time: it hath forgotten me perhaps? Or doth it sit behind a big stone and catch flies? And verily, I am well disposed to mine eternal fate, because it doth not hound and hurry me, but leaveth me time for merriment and mischief; so that I have to-day ascended this high mountain to catch fish. Did ever any one catch fish upon high mountains? And though it be a folly what I here seek and do, it is better so than that down below I should become solemn with waiting, and green and yellow— —A posturing wrath-snorter with waiting, a holy howl-storm from the mountains, an impatient one that shouteth down into the valleys:…
Not that I would have a grudge against such wrathful ones on that account: they are well enough for laughter to me! Impatient must they now be, those big alarm-drums, which find a voice now or never! Myself, however, and my fate—we do not talk to the Present, neither do we talk to the Never: for talking we have patience and time and more than time. For one day must it yet come, and may not pass by. What must one day come and may not pass by? Our great Hazar, that is to say, our great, remot...
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