Too long have I yearned and scanned far horizon. Too long hath the shroud of solitude been upon me: thus have I lost the habit of silence.
A tongue have I become and little else besides, and the brawling of a brook, falling from lofty rocks: downward into the dale will I pour my words.
And let the torrent of my love dash into all blocked highways. How could a torrent help but find its way to the sea!
Verily, a lake lies within me, complacent and alone; but the torrent of my love draws this along with it, down – into the ocean!
New highways I tread, new worlds come unto me; like all creators I have grown weary of old tongues. No longer will my spirit walk on worn-out soles.
Too slow footed is all speech for me: - Into thy chariot, O storm, do I leap! And even thee will I scourge with my devilry.
Thus spake Zarathustra."
-Nietzsche
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