Foolish Weblogger Child

“From their misery they sought escape, and the stars were too remote for them. Then they sighed: "O that there were heavenly paths by which to steal into another existence and into happiness.” Then they contrived for themselves their sneaky ruses and bloody potions.“

"Of all that is written I love only what a man has written with his blood. Write with blood, and you will find that blood is spirit.”

“It is true: we love life not because we are used to living, but because we are used to loving.
There is always some madness in love. But there is always also some reason in madness.
And to me also, as I am well disposed toward life, butterflies and soap bubbles and whatever among men is of their kind seem to know most about happiness.
To see these light, foolish, pretty, lively little souls flutter –that seduces Zarathustra to tears and songs.
I would believe only in a god who could dance.”

“If I wished to shake this tree with my hands I should not be able to do so. But the wind, which does not see, tortures and bends it in whatever direction it pleases. We are bent and tortured worst by invisible hands.”

“This tree stands lonely here in the mountains; it grew high above man and beast. And if it wanted to speak it would have none would could understand it: so high has it grown. Now it waits and waits – for what is it waiting? It dwells too close to the seat of the clouds: surely it waits for the first lightning?”

“Some souls one will never discover unless one invents them first.”

“It tears my heart. Better than your words express it, your eyes tell me of all your dangers. …You want the free heights, your soul thirsts for the stars.”

“But by my love and hope I beseech you: do not throw away the hero in your soul! Hold holy your highest hope!”

“Only a fool remains alive, but such fools are we! And that is surely the most foolish thing about life!”

“The earth is free even now for great souls. There are yet many empty seats for the lonesome and the twosome, wafted by the aroma of still seas. A free life is even now free for great souls. Truly, whoever possesses little is that much less possessed: praised be a little poverty!”

“It is terrible to be alone with the judge and avenger of one’s own law. thus is a start thrown forth into the void and into the icy breath of solitude.
Today you still suffer from the multitude, you individual: today you still have all your courage and your hopes.
But one day your solitude will weary you, one day your pride will yield and your courage quail. You will one day cry: "I am alone!”

“They throw injustice and filth at the lonely one: but my brother, if you would be a star, you must shine no less for them on that account!”

“Lonely one, you are going the way to yourself!”

“Let this be your honor: always to love more than you are loved, and never to be second.”

“Free for death and free in death, able to say a holy No when there is no longer time for Yes: thus he understands death and life.”

“One of the world’s most tiresome questions is what object one would bring to a desert island,because people always answer “a deck of cards” or “Anna Karenina” when the obvious answer is “a well equipped boat and a crew to sail me off the island and back home where I can play all the card games and read all the Russian novels I want.”

I tell you: One must still have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star. I tell you: You still have chaos in yourself.

I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.

Truth about Friendship: It’s androgenous, morphing into many shapes and sizes, one day a sphere, the other, a banana. But it is never inconstant - it will always look you in the eye, flutter on your shoulder, and knit itself into your hat like thoughts and prayers, helping to cover your ears and keep you warm. It will make you cups of coffee and together sip moments of time. It will bake you muffins in the shape of ukeleles and ostriches, and snuggle with your bunny slippers. Time, distance and lima beans will never be able to warp it’s figure, because it is true and it is beautiful.

Happy birthday, my dearest friend. I just tried to let you know how greatful I am for this day, because of it you exist and I have your friendship. :D Much love!

[In the meantime, for a moment, the clouds had rearranged themselves, and he might have said that they looked like a flying creature, a shadow angel, all light and impermanence.]
But the clouds suggested this only to themselves, while he kept his head down, bent to his task.

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.