nothing much today. worked on benefit stuff, talked to scott and trey. played some rachet and clank. slept, caught up on laundry.
here's today's quote from everybody's favorite:
This book belongs to the very few. Perhaps not one of them is even living yet. Maybe they will be the readers who understand my Zarathustra: how could I mistake myself for one of those for whom there are ears even now? Only the day after tomorrow belongs to me. Some are born posthumously.
The conditions under which I am understood, and then of necessityI know them only too well. One must be honest in matters of the spirit to the point of hardness before one can even endure my seriousness and my passion. One must be skilled in living on mountainsseeing the wretched ephemeral babble of politics and national self-seeking beneath oneself. One must have become indifferent; one must never ask if the truth is useful or if it may prove our undoing ... The predilection of strength for questions for which no one today has the courage; the courage for the forbidden; the predestination to the labyrinth. An experience of seven solitudes. New ears for new music. New eyes for what is most distant. A new conscience for truths that have so far remained mute. And the will to the economy of the great style: keeping our strength, our enthusiasm in harness ... Reverence for oneself; love of oneself; unconditional freedom before oneself...
Well then! Such men alone are my readers, my right readers, my predestined readers: what matter the rest? The restthat is merely mankind. One must be above mankind in strength, in loftiness of soulin contempt ...
you have been briefed, carry on.
the geist
here's today's quote from everybody's favorite:
This book belongs to the very few. Perhaps not one of them is even living yet. Maybe they will be the readers who understand my Zarathustra: how could I mistake myself for one of those for whom there are ears even now? Only the day after tomorrow belongs to me. Some are born posthumously.
The conditions under which I am understood, and then of necessityI know them only too well. One must be honest in matters of the spirit to the point of hardness before one can even endure my seriousness and my passion. One must be skilled in living on mountainsseeing the wretched ephemeral babble of politics and national self-seeking beneath oneself. One must have become indifferent; one must never ask if the truth is useful or if it may prove our undoing ... The predilection of strength for questions for which no one today has the courage; the courage for the forbidden; the predestination to the labyrinth. An experience of seven solitudes. New ears for new music. New eyes for what is most distant. A new conscience for truths that have so far remained mute. And the will to the economy of the great style: keeping our strength, our enthusiasm in harness ... Reverence for oneself; love of oneself; unconditional freedom before oneself...
Well then! Such men alone are my readers, my right readers, my predestined readers: what matter the rest? The restthat is merely mankind. One must be above mankind in strength, in loftiness of soulin contempt ...
you have been briefed, carry on.
the geist
I'm sorry, the only reason I thought the question was odd was because I live near Powell's City of Books, so I've never had trouble finding anything at all.