Escape the Poisonous Flies — Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Zarathustra tells his friend to flee into solitude. Great noise from famous men and stings from little ones are wearing him down. Forest and rock know how to be silent. Where solitude ends, the marketplace begins. There you find actors who perform greatness and poison-flies who buzz around creators.

The world spins around people who invent new values, but crowds spin around actors who represent those values on stage. Actors change beliefs daily and call blood the best argument. The marketplace demands yes or no right now. Truth does not cling to impatient arms. Deep fountains are slow. All that is great happens away from fame.

The small ones punish your virtues and forgive only your errors. They flatter, whine, and sting for your blood in innocence. Your pride becomes their bad conscience. Zarathustra says you are not a fly-swatter. Flee to rough wind and solitude before their poison hollows you out. Even when you are gentle, they feel despised and repay kindness with secret harm. Recognition irritates what they see in you. They want you frivolous when you are humble. Innumerable raindrops can hollow stone. Do not raise your arm against every fly. Your neighbors will always be poisonous flies when you grow great.