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14 - Thus Spake Zarathustra - Friedrich Nietzsche · Logic Library

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  Part one, Chapter fourteen. The friend one is always too many about me,
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  thinketh the anchorite always once one that maketh two. In the long run.
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  I and me are always too earnestly in conversation. How could it be
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  endured if there were not a friend? The friend of the anchorite is always
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  the third one. The third one is the cark, which preventeth the conversation
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  of the two sinking into the depths. Ah, there are too many depths
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  for all anchorites. Therefore do they long so much for a friend and for
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  his elevation? Our faith in others betrayeth wherein we would fain have faith in
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  ourselves. Our longing for a friend is our betrayal. And often with our
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  love we want merely to overleap envy. And often we attack and make ourselves
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  enemies, to conceal that we are vulnerable, be at least mine enemy.
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  Thus speaketh the true reverence, which dost not venture to solicit friendship. If
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  one would have a friend, then must one also be willing to wage war
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  for him. And in order to wage war, one must be capable of
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  being an enemy. One ought still to honor the enemy in one's friend canst
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  thou go nigh unto thy friend and not go over to him? In one's
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  friend, one shall have one's best enemy. Thou shalt be closest unto him
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  with thy heart, when thou withstandest him, Thou wouldst wear no raiment before
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  thy friend. It is in honor of thy friend that thou ShoWest thyself to
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  him as thou art. But he wishes thee to the devil. On that
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  account, he who maketh no secret of himself shocketh so much. Reason have
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  ye to fear nakedness? Aye? If ye were gods, ye could then
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  be ashamed of clothing. Thou canst not adorn thyself fine enough for thy friend,
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  for thou shalt be unto him an arrow and a longing for the superman.
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  Sawest thou ever thy friend asleep, to know how he looketh? What
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  is usually the countenance of thy friend? It is thine own countenance in a
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  coarse and imperfect mirror. Sawest thou ever thy friend asleep. Wert thou not
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  dismayed at thy friend looking so o? My friend, man is something that
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  hath to be surpassed. In divining and keeping silence? Shall the friend be
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  a master not everything. Must thou wish to see. Thy dream shall disclose
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  unto thee what thy friend doeth when awake. Let thy pity be a divining
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  to know. First. If thy friend wanteth pity, perhaps he loveth in
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  thee the unmoved eye and the look of eternity. Let thy pity for thy
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  friend be hid under a hard shell. Thou shalt bite out a tooth upon
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  it. Thus will it have delicacy and sweetness. Art thou pure air,
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  and solitude, and bread and medicine to thy friend. Many a one cannot
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  loosen his own fetters, but is nevertheless his friend's emancipator. Art thou a
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  slave, then thou canst not be a friend? Art thou a tyrant?
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  Then thou canst not have friends? For too long? Hast thou been a
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  slave and a tyrant concealed in woman? On that account, woman is not
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  yet capable of friendship. She knoweth only love. In woman's love there is
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  injustice and blindness to all she does not love. And even in woman's conscious
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  love there is still always surprise and lightning at night along with the light.
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  As yet, woman is not capable of friendship. Women are still cats and
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  birds, or at the best cows. As yet woman is not capable of
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  friendship. But tell me ye men, who, if you are capable of
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  friendship, owe your poverty, ye men, and your sordidness of soul.
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  As much as ye give to your friend, will I give even to my
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  foe? And will not have become poorer. Thereby there is conradship, may
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  there be friendship. Thus spakes are our sistra. End of Chapter fourteen. The friend