“You “shall” become a child again, and therefore, or to that end, you shall begin by being able to and by willing to understand the words that are as if directed at a child, and which every child understands—you shall understand the words as a child understands them: “You shall.” The child never asks about reasons; the child does not dare do so, neither does the child need to—and the one corresponds to the other, for precisely because the child does not dare do so, neither does it need to ask about reasons; because for the child it is reason enough that it shall—indeed, all reasons together would not be reason enough to the child to the degree that this is. And the child never says, “I cannot.” The child does not dare do so, and neither is it true; the one corresponds precisely to the other—for precisely because the child does not dare say, “I cannot,” it is not therefore true that it cannot, and it therefore turns out that the truth is that it can do it, for it is impossible to be unable to do it when one does not dare do otherwise: nothing is more certain—as long as it is certain that one does not dare do otherwise. And the child never looks for an evasion or an excuse, for the child understands the frightful truth that there is no evasion or excuse, there is no hiding place, neither in heaven nor on earth, neither in the parlor nor in the garden, where it could hide from this “You shall.”