Macmillan

indeed,he
BEYOND GOOD AND EVIL 227
ous kind of silence, of concealment. He who has sat day and
night,from year'send to year'send,alone with his soul in
familiar discord and discourse,he who has become a cavebear,or
a treasure-seeker, or a treasure-guardian and dragon
in his "
cave it may be a labyrinth, but can also be a goldmine
" his ideas themselves eventuallyacquirea twilightcolour
of their own, and an odour,as much of the depth as
of the mould, something uncommunicative and repulsive,
which blows chillyupon every passerby.The recluse does
not believe that a
"
philosophersupposingthat a philosopher
has always in the first placebeen a recluse" ever expressed
his actual and ultimate opinionsin books: are not books
written preciselyto hide what is in us? "
will
doubt whether a philosopher can have "ultimate and actual"
opinionsat all;whether behind every cave in him there is
not, and must necessarilybe, a stilldeepercave: an ampler,
stranger, richer world beyond the surface,an abyss behind
every bottom,beneath every "foundation." Every philosophy
is a
"
foregroundphilosophy this is a recluse'sverdict:
"There is somethingarbitrary the fact that the philosopher
came to a stand here,took a retrospect and looked around;
that he here laid his spadeaside and did not digany deeper
" there
is also somethingsuspicious
it." Every
philosophy
also conceals a philosophy;every opinionis also a
lurking-place, every word is also a mask.
290
Every deep thinker is more
afraid of being understood
than of being misunderstood. The latter perhapswounds
his vanity;but the former wounds his heart,his sympathy,
which alwayssays: "Ah, why would you also have as hard
a time of it as I have?"