THE MADMAN----Have you not heard of that madman who lit a
lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the market place, and
cried incessantly: "I seek God! I seek God!"---As many of those
who did not believe in God were standing around just then, he
provoked much laughter. Has he got lost? asked one. Did he lose
his way like a child? asked another. Or is he hiding? Is he afraid
of us? Has he gone on a voyage? emigrated?---Thus they yelled
and laughed
The madman jumped into their midst and pierced them with his
eyes. "Whither is God?" he cried; "I will tell you. We have killed
him---you and I. All of us are his murderers. But how did we do
this? How could we drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to
wipe away the entire horizon? What were we doing when we
unchained this earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now?
Whither are we moving? Away from all suns? Are we not plunging
continually? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is
there still any up or down? Are we not straying, as through an
infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it
not become colder? Is not night continually closing in on us? Do
we not need to light lanterns in the morning? Do we hear nothing
as yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do
we smell nothing as yet of the divine decomposition? Gods, too,
decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed
him.
"How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?
What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet
owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this
blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What
festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to
invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must
we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?
There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after
us---for the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history
than all history hitherto."
Here the madman fell silent and looked again at his listeners; and
they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last
he threw his lantern on the ground, and it broke into pieces and
went out. "I have come too early," he said then; "my time is not
yet. This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering; it
has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder
require time; the light of the stars requires time; deeds, though
done, still require time to be seen and heard. This deed is still
more distant from them than most distant stars---and yet they
have done it themselves.
It has been related further that on the same day the madman
forced his way into several churches and there struck up his
requiem aeternam deo. Led out and called to account, he is said
always to have replied nothing but: "What after all are these
churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God?"
Source: Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science, pgs.181-82
lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the market place, and
cried incessantly: "I seek God! I seek God!"---As many of those
who did not believe in God were standing around just then, he
provoked much laughter. Has he got lost? asked one. Did he lose
his way like a child? asked another. Or is he hiding? Is he afraid
of us? Has he gone on a voyage? emigrated?---Thus they yelled
and laughed
The madman jumped into their midst and pierced them with his
eyes. "Whither is God?" he cried; "I will tell you. We have killed
him---you and I. All of us are his murderers. But how did we do
this? How could we drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to
wipe away the entire horizon? What were we doing when we
unchained this earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now?
Whither are we moving? Away from all suns? Are we not plunging
continually? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is
there still any up or down? Are we not straying, as through an
infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it
not become colder? Is not night continually closing in on us? Do
we not need to light lanterns in the morning? Do we hear nothing
as yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do
we smell nothing as yet of the divine decomposition? Gods, too,
decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed
him.
"How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?
What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet
owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this
blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What
festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to
invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must
we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?
There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after
us---for the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history
than all history hitherto."
Here the madman fell silent and looked again at his listeners; and
they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last
he threw his lantern on the ground, and it broke into pieces and
went out. "I have come too early," he said then; "my time is not
yet. This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering; it
has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder
require time; the light of the stars requires time; deeds, though
done, still require time to be seen and heard. This deed is still
more distant from them than most distant stars---and yet they
have done it themselves.
It has been related further that on the same day the madman
forced his way into several churches and there struck up his
requiem aeternam deo. Led out and called to account, he is said
always to have replied nothing but: "What after all are these
churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God?"
Source: Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science, pgs.181-82