The Stream Of Time Sweeps

I Did Not Know What It Was To Be Happy For A Whole Day At A Time, Scarcely For An Hour.

A Love For Humanity Came Over Me, And Watered And Fertilised The Fields Of My Inner World Which Had Been Lying Fallow, And This Love Of Humanity Vented Itself In A Vast Compassion.

History, In [nietzsche's] View, Belongs To Him Who Is Fighting A Great Fight, And Who Needs Examples, Teachers And Comforters, But Cannot Find Them Among His Contemporaries. Without History The Mountain Chain Of Great Men's Great Moments, Which Runs Through Millennia, Could Not Stand Clearly And Vividly Before Me.

Forgetfulness, The Unhistorical, Is ... The Atmosphere, In Which Alone Life Can Come Into Being. In Order To Understand It, Let Us Imagine A Youth Who Is Seized With A Passion For A Woman, Or A Man Who Is Swayed By A Passion For His Work. In Both Cases What Lies Behind Them Has Ceased To Exist And Yet This State (the Most Unhistorical That Can Be Imagined) Is That In Which Every Action, Every Great Deed Is Conceived And Accomplished.

Among The Delights Of Summer Were Picnics To The Woods.