Luca

“– And Zarathustra ran and ran and found no one else and was alone and found himself again and again and enjoyed and relished his solitude and thought of good things– for hours on end. But around the hour of midday, when the sun stood directly over Zarathustra’s head, he was passing an old crooked and gnarled tree that had been embraced by the rich love of a grape-vine and was thus hidden from itself: and from this vine an abundance of yellow grapes hung down toward the wanderer. He then felt a desire to slake a slight thirst and to pluck for himself a grape; but even as he was reaching out his arm to do this, he felt a greater desire for something else: namely, to lie down beside the tree, around the hour of perfect midday, and to sleep.
This Zarathustra did; and no sooner was he lying on the ground, in the stillness and secrecy of the colourful grasses, than he forgot his slight thirst and fell asleep. For, as Zarathustra’s saying goes: One thing is more necessary than another.* Only his eyes remained open: for they were not tired of seeing and admiring the“This Zarathustra did; and no sooner was he lying on the ground, in the stillness and secrecy of the colourful grasses, than he forgot his slight thirst and fell asleep. For, as Zarathustra’s saying goes: One thing is more necessary than another.* Only his eyes remained open: for they were not tired of seeing and admiring the tree and the love of the vine. But in falling asleep Zarathustra spoke thus to his heart: ‘Still! Still! Did the world not just become perfect?* But what is happening to me?”
― Fredrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

“In this world, who can do a thing, will not; And who would do it, cannot, I perceive: Yet the will’s somewhat — somewhat, too, the power — And thus we half-men struggle. At the end, God, I conclude, compensates, punishes.”
― Robert Browning, Andrea del Sarto

“Just look at these superfluous creatures! They steal for themselves the works of inventors and the treasures of the wise: culture they call their theft—and everything turns for them to sickness and misfortune!
Just look at these superfluous creatures! Sick are they always; they vomit up their gall and call it a newspaper. They devour each other and cannot even digest themselves.”
― Fredrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

“Whenever I run up against what's called "instinct," I feel like I want to cry. As I begin to realize from various experiences in my life just how enormous our instincts are and how powerless we are against the force that drives us, sometimes I think I might lose my mind. I become distracted, wondering what I should to do. There is no way to resist or accept the force; it simply feels as if some huge thing has blanketed me whole, from the top of my head, so that it can now drag me around freely. There is a certain satisfaction in being dragged around, as well as a separate sad feeling as I watch it happen. Why is it that we cannot be happy with ourself or love only ourself throughout our life? It is pathetic to watch whatever emotions or sense of reason I have acquired up to that point be devoured by instinct. Whenever I let the slightest thing make me forget myself, I can't help but be disappointed. The clear confirmation that that self—me, that is—is also ruled by instinct makes me think I could cry. It makes me want to call out for Mother and Father. But even more pathetic is that—to my surprise—the truth could be found in aspects of myself that I don't like.”
― Osamu Dazai, Schoolgirl