Nikos Kazantzakis: 1 Quotes

Nikos Kazantzakis
I am a mariner of Odysseus with heart of re but with mind

ruthless and clear.
Paradise is here, my good man. God, give me no other paradise!
My entire soul is a cry, and all my work the commentary on that

cry.
Nikos Kazantzakis (18 February 1883 26 October

1957) was a Greek novelist, poet, playwright and philosopher.
Quotes
I am a mariner of Odysseus with heart of re
but with mind ruthless and clear.
Toda Raba (1934)
I said to the almond tree: Speak to me of God"
We are not simple people who believe in and the almond tree blossomed.
happiness; nor weaklings who crumple to the
ground in distress at the rst reverse; nor skeptics
observing the bloody eort of marching humanity
from the lofty heights of a mocking, sterile wit. Be1
QUOTES
As quoted in Nikos Kazantzakis (1968) by Helen Kazantzakis, p. 507
All the political, social, and economic improvements, all the technical progress cannot have any regenerating signicance, so long
as our inner life remains as it is at present...
Having seen that I was not capable of using all my

resources in political action, I returned to my literary activity. There lay the the battleeld suited to my
temperament. I wanted to make my novels the extension of my own fathers struggle for liberty. But
gradually, as I kept deepening my responsibility as
a writer, the human problem came to overshadow
political and social questions. All the political, social, and economic improvements, all the technical progress cannot have any regenerating signicance, so long as our inner life remains as it
is at present. The more the intelligence unveils
and violates the secrets of Nature, the more the
danger increases and the heart shrinks.
lieving in the ght, though we entertain no illusions

about it, we are armed against every disappointment.
As quoted in Nikos Kazantzakis (1968) by Helen Kazantzakis, p. 529
Toda Raba (1934)

God, what is all this talk put out by the popes?
Paradise is here, my good man. God, give me
no other paradise!
You gave me your curse, holy Fathers. I give you

a blessing: May you be as moral and religious as
I am.
In response to attempts by leaders of the
Greek Orthodox church to anathematize him,
as quoted in Gods Struggler : Religion in the
Writings of Nikos Kazantzakis (1996) by Darren J. N. Middleton and Peter Bien, p. 12
Freedom and Death (1956)

We, who are dying, are doing better, than they, who
will live. For Crete doesn't need householders,
she needs madmen like us. These madmen make
Crete immortal.
Freedom and Death (1956)
All my life I struggled to stretch my mind to the
breaking point, until it began to creak, in order to
create a great thought which might be able to give a
new meaning to life, a new meaning to death, and to
console mankind.
A person needs a little madness, or else they

never dare cut the rope and be free.
As quoted in Wisdom for the Soul : Five Millennia of Prescriptions for Spiritual Healing
(2006) by Larry Chang, p. 412
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The Saviors of God (1923)
Odyssey of Faith in TIME magazine (6 June

1960)
I said to the almond tree: Speak to me of God.
and the almond tree blossomed.
The Fratricides (1964)
Every perfect traveller always creates the country
where he travels.
As quoted in Reporter in Red China (1966) by
Charles Taylor
The major and almost only theme of all my work
is the struggle of man with God: the unyielding,
inextinguishable struggle of the naked worm called We come from a dark abyss, we end in a dark abyss, and we call
man against the terrifying power and darkness of the luminous interval life.
the forces within him and around him.
1.1
. Salvatores dei [Ascesis : The Saviors of

God] (1923). written in 1923; Published in English
as The Saviors of God : Spiritual Exercises (1960) as
translated by Kimon Friar; Excerpts later published
in The Rock Garden : A Novel (1963)
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With clarity and quiet, I look upon the world and
say: All that I see, hear, taste, smell, and touch
are the creations of my mind.
The sun comes up and the sun goes down in my skull.
Out of one of my temples the sun rises, and into the
other the sun sets.
The stars shine in my brain; ideas, men, animals
browse in my temporal head; songs and weeping ll
the twisted shells of my ears and storm the air for a
moment.
I do not know whether behind appearances there
lives and moves a secret essence superior to me.
Nor do I ask; I do not care. I create phenomena in
swarms, and paint with a full palette a gigantic and
gaudy curtain before the abyss. Do not say, Draw
the curtain that I may see the painting. The curtain is the painting.
With clarity and quiet, I look upon the world and say: All that I
see, hear, taste, smell, and touch are the creations of my mind.
To SEE and accept the boundaries of the human

mind without vain rebellion, and in these severe limitations to work ceaselessly without protest this is
where mans rst duty lies.
Prologue
I subdue matter and force it to become my
minds good medium. I rejoice in plants, in an We come from a dark abyss, we end in a dark
imals, in man and in gods, as though they were
abyss, and we call the luminous interval life. As
my children. I feel all the universe nestling about
soon as we are born the return begins, at once the
me and following me as though it were my own
setting forth and the coming back; we die in every
body.
moment. Because of this many have cried out: The
goal of life is death! But as soon as we are born we
begin the struggle to create, to compose, to turn mat- The Preparation : Second Duty
ter into life; we are born in every moment. Because
of this many have cried out: The goal of ephemeral
life is immortality! In the temporary living organism
these two streams collide both opposing forces
are holy. It is our duty, therefore, to grasp that vision
which can embrace and harmonize these two enormous, timeless, and indestructible forces, and with
this vision to modulate our thinking and our action.
The Preparation : First Duty
I am a weak, ephemeral creature made of mud and dream. But

I feel all the powers of the universe whirling within me.
Do not say, Draw the curtain that I may see the painting. The
curtain is the painting.
I will not accept boundaries; appearances cannot contain me; I choke! To bleed in this agony,
and to live it profoundly, is the second duty.
The mind is patient and adjusts itself, it likes
to play; but the heart grows savage and will not
condescend to play; it sties and rushes to tear
apart the nets of necessity.
QUOTES
Behind all appearances, I divine a struggling

essence. I want to merge with it.
I feel that behind appearances this struggling
essence is also striving to merge with my heart.
But the body stands between us and separates
us. The mind stands between us and separates
us.
Never acknowledge the limitations of man. Smash
all boundaries! Deny whatever your eyes see. Die
every moment, but say: Death does not exist.
I am a weak, ephemeral creature made of mud
and dream. But I feel all the powers of the universe whirling within me.
I strive to discover how to signal my companions before I die, how to give them a hand, how to spell
out for them in time one complete word at least, to
tell them what I think this procession is, and toward
what we go. And how necessary it is for all of us
together to put our steps and hearts in harmony.
To say in time a simple word to my companions, a
Where are we going? Do not ask! Ascend, descend. There is no
password, like conspirators.
Yes, the purpose of Earth is not life, it is not man. beginning and no end.
Earth has existed without these, and it will live on
without them. They are but the ephemeral sparks of
its violent whirling.
Let us unite, let us hold each other tightly, let
us merge our hearts, let us create so long
as the warmth of this earth endures, so long as
no earthquakes, cataclysms, icebergs or comets
come to destroy us let us create for Earth a
brain and a heart, let us give a human meaning
to the superhuman struggle.
This anguish is our second duty.
The Preparation : Third Duty
I love, I feel pain, I struggle. The world seems to me wider than
the mind, my heart a dark and almighty mystery.
and hopes to subdue phenomena. Free yourself

from the terror of the heart that seeks and hopes
to nd the essence of things.
Conquer the last, the greatest temptation of all:
Hope. This is the third duty.
Free yourself from the terror of the heart that seeks and hopes to
nd the essence of things.
The moment is ripe: leave the heart and the mind

behind you, go forward, take the third step.
Free yourself from the simple complacency of
the mind that thinks to put all things in order
I hold the brimming wineglass and relive the toils of

my grandfathers and great-grandfathers. The sweat
of my labor runs down like a fountain from my tall,
intoxicated brow.
I am a sack lled with meat and bones, blood, sweat,
and tears, desires and visions.
Where are we going? Do not ask! Ascend, descend. There is no beginning and no end. Only
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this present moment exists, full of bitterness, full of
sweetness, and I rejoice in it all.
I surrender myself to everything. I love, I feel pain,

I struggle. The world seems to me wider than the
mind, my heart a dark and almighty mystery.
Nothing exists! Neither life nor death. I watch mind
and matter hunting each other like two nonexistent
erotic phantasms merging, begetting, disappearing and I say: This is what I want!"
I know now: I do not hope for anything. I
do not fear anything, I have freed myself from
both the mind and the heart, I have mounted
much higher, I am free. [ ,
,
, , .]
This is what I want. I want nothing more. I have
been seeking freedom.
This passage was used for Kazantzakis epitaph: " ,
, .
I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am
free.
Variant translation: I expect nothing. I fear
no one. I am free.
The March
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Amidst our greatest happiness someone within us
cries out: I am in pain! I want to escape your happiness! I am stiing!"
Amidst our deepest despair someone within us cries
out: I do not despair! I ght on! I grasp at your
head, I unsheathe myself from your body, I detach
myself from the earth, I cannot be contained in
brains, in names, in deeds!"
This is the moment of greatest crisis. This is the
signal for the March to begin. If you do not hear this
Cry tearing at your entrails, do not set out.
Which of the two eternal roads shall I choose? Suddenly I know that my whole life hangs on this decision the life of the entire Universe.
Of the two, I choose the ascending path. Why?
For no intelligible reason, without any certainty; I
know how ineectual the mind and all the small certainties of man can be in this moment of crisis.
I choose the ascending path because my heart
drives me toward it. Upward! Upward! Upward!" my heart shouts, and I follow it trustingly.
Someone within me is struggling to lift a great
weight, to cast o the mind and esh by overcoming habit, laziness, necessity.
I do not know from where he comes or where he
goes. I clutch at his onward march in my ephemeral
breast, I listen to his panting struggle, I shudder
when I touch him.
First Step : The Ego
This is the moment of greatest crisis. This is the signal for the
March to begin. If you do not hear this Cry tearing at your entrails, do not set out.
Gather your strength and listen; the whole heart

of man is a single outcry. Lean against your breast
to hear it; someone is struggling and shouting within
you.
It is your duty every moment, day and night, in joy or
in sorrow, amid all daily necessities, to discern this
Cry with vehemence or restraint, according to your I put my body through its paces like a war horse; I keep it lean,
sturdy, prepared.
nature, with laughter or with weeping, in action or
in thought, striving to nd out who is imperiled and
I am not the light, I am the night; but a ame stabs
cries out.
through my entrails and consumes me. I am the
And how we may all be mobilized together to free
night devoured by light.
him.
QUOTES
Hold courageously the passes which I entrusted to

you; do not betray them. You are in duty bound, and
you may act heroically by remaining at your own battle station.
Love danger. What is most dicult? That is what
I want! Which road should you take? The most
craggy ascent! It is the one I also take: follow me!
"Love responsibility. Say: It is my duty, and
mine alone, to save the earth. If it is not saved,
then I alone am to blame.
Love each man according to his contribution in the
struggle. Do not seek friends; seek comrades-inarms.
It is my duty, and mine alone, to save the earth. If it is not saved,
then I alone am to blame.
I am NOT nothing! A vaporous phosphorescence

on a damp meadow, a miserable worm that crawls
and loves, that shouts and talks about wings for an
hour or two until his mouth is blocked with earth.
The dark powers give no other answer.
But within me a deathless Cry, superior to me, continues to shout. For whether I want to or not, I am
also, without doubt, a part of the visible and the
invisible Universe. We are one.
I am not alone in my fear, nor alone in my hope,
nor alone in my shouting. A tremendous host, an
onrush of the Universe fears, hopes, and shouts with
me.
I am an improvised bridge, and when Someone
passes over me, I crumble away behind Him.
Second Step: The Race
Your passions and your thoughts are older than your heart or
brain.
I put my body through its paces like a war horse;

I keep it lean, sturdy, prepared. I harden it and I
pity it. I have no other steed.
I keep my brain wide awake, lucid, unmerciful. I unleash it to battle relentlessly so that, all light, it may
devour the darkness of the esh. I have no other
workshop where I may transform darkness into light.
I keep my heart aming, courageous, restless. I feel
in my heart all commotions and all contradictions, the joys and sorrows of life. But I struggle
to subdue them to a rhythm superior to that of
the mind, harsher than that of my heart to the
ascending rhythm of the Universe.
Everything you do reverberates throughout a thousand destinies.
The Cry within me is a call to arms. It shouts: I,

As you walk, you cut open and create that river bed into which
the Cry, am the Lord your God! I am not an asylum. the stream of your descendants shall enter and ow.
I am not hope and a home. I am not the Father nor
the Son nor the Holy Ghost. I am your General!
It is not you talking, but innumerable ancestors talkYou are not my slave, nor a plaything in my hands.
ing with your mouth. It is not you who desire, but inYou are not my friend, you are not my child. You
numerable generations of descendants longing with
are my comrade-in-arms!
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your heart.
Your dead do not lie in the ground. They have become birds, trees, air. You sit under their shade, you
are nourished by their esh, you inhale their breathing. They have become ideas and passions, they determine your will and your actions.
Future generations do not move far from you in an
uncertain time. They live, desire, and act in your
loins and your heart.
In this lightning moment when you walk the
earth, your rst duty, by enlarging your ego, is
to live through the endless march, both visible
and invisible, of your own being.
You are not free. Myriad invisible hands hold
your hands and direct them. When you rise
in anger, a great-grandfather froths at your mouth;
when you make love, an ancestral caveman growls
with lust; when you sleep, tombs open in your mem- The heart unites whatever the mind separates, pushes on beyond
the arena of necessity and transmutes the struggle into love.
ory till your skull brims with ghosts.
Do not die that we may not die, the dead cry
out within you. We had no time to enjoy the
women we desired; be in time, sleep with them! We
had no time to turn our thoughts into deeds; turn
them into deeds! We had no time to grasp and to
crystallize the face of our hope; make it rm!"
But you must choose with care whom to hurl
down again into the chasms of your blood, and
whom you shall permit to mount once more into
the light and the earth.
Enlighten the dark blood of your ancestors,
shape their cries into speech, purify their will,
widen their narrow, unmerciful brows. This is
your second duty.
For you are not only a slave. As soon as you were
born, a new possibility was born with you, a free
heartbeat stormed through the great sunless heart of
your race.
Everything you do reverberates throughout a
thousand destinies. As you walk, you cut open and
create that river bed into which the stream of your
descendants shall enter and ow.
You are not a miserable and momentary body; behind your eeting mask of clay, a thousand-yearold face lies in ambush. Your passions and your
thoughts are older than your heart or brain.
It is not you talking. Nor is it your race only which

shouts within you, for all the innumerable races of
mankind shout and rush within you: white, yellow,
black.
Free yourself from race also; ght to live
through the whole struggle of man.
Look upon men and pity them. Look at yourself
amid all men and pity yourself. In the obscure dusk
of life we touch and fumble at each other, we ask
questions, we listen, we shout for help.
The centuries are thick, dark waves that rise and fall,
steeped in blood. Every moment is a gaping abyss.
Gaze on the dark sea without staggering, confront
the abyss every moment without illusion or impudence or fear. But this is not enough; take a
further step: battle to give meaning to the confused
struggles of man.
The heart unites whatever the mind separates,
pushes on beyond the arena of necessity and
transmutes the struggle into love.
Gather together in your heart all terrors, recompose
all details. Salvation is a circle; close it!
Your rst duty, in completing your service to your Fourth Step : The Earth
race, is to feel within you all your ancestors. Your
second duty is to throw light on their onrush and to
The entire Earth, with her trees and her waters, with
continue their work. Your third duty is to pass on
her animals, with her men and her gods, calls from
to your son the great mandate to surpass you.
within your breast.
Earth rises up in your brains and sees her entire
Third Step : Mankind
body for the rst time.
QUOTES
Earth rises up in your brains and sees her entire body for the rst
time.
I recall an endless desert of innite and aming matter. I am burning! I pass through immeasurable, unorganized time, completely done, despairing, crying Every word, every deed, every thought is the heavy gravestone he
is forever trying to lift.
in the wilderness.
And slowly the ame subsides, the womb of matter
grows cool, the stone comes alive, breaks open, and
a small green leaf uncurls into the air, trembling. It
clutches the soil, steadies itself, raises its head and
hands, grasps the air, the water, the light, and sucks
at the Universe.
Only now, as we feel the onslaught behind us, do we
begin dimly to apprehend why the animals fought,
begot, and died; and behind them the plants; and
behind these the huge reserve of inorganic forces.
We are moved by pity, gratitude, and esteem for our
old comrades-in-arms. They toiled, loved, and died
to open a road for our coming.
We also toil with the same delight, agony, and exaltation for the sake of Someone Else who with every
courageous deed of ours proceeds one step farther.
All our struggle once more will have a purpose much
greater than we, wherein our toils, our miseries, and
our crimes will have become useful and holy.
The Vision
The bodies breathe, feed, store up strength, and then All hopes and despairs vanish in the voracious, funneling
in an erotic moment are shattered, are spent and whirlwind of God.
drained utterly, that they may bequeath their spirit
to their sons. What spirit? The drive upward!
living things being trampled on and crushed.
His face is without laughter, dark and silent, beyond
Behind the stream of my mind and body, behind
joy and sorrow, beyond hope.
the stream of my race and all mankind, behind the
stream of plants and animals, I watch with trembling
It is as though we had buried Someone we thought
the Invisible, treading on all visible things and asdead, and now hear him calling in the night: Help
cending.
me! Heaving and panting, he raises the gravestone
Behind his heavy and blood-splattered feet I hear all
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hearts and our minds.
The essence of our God is STRUGGLE. Pain,
joy, and hope unfold and labor within this struggle, world without end.
From every joy and pain a hope leaps out eternally to escape this pain and to widen joy.
And again the ascent begins which is pain and
joy is reborn and new hope springs up once more.
The circle never closes. It is not a circle, but a spiral which ascends eternally, ever widening, enfolding and unfolding the triune struggle.
Like every other living thing, I also am in the center of the Cosmic
whirlpool.
Let us transx this momentary eternity which encloses everything,

past and future, but without losing in the immobility of language
any of its gigantic erotic whirling.
of our soul and body higher and still higher, breathing more freely at every moment.
Every word, every deed, every thought is the heavy
gravestone he is forever trying to lift. And my own
body and all the visible world, all heaven and earth,
are the gravestone which God is struggling to heave
upward.
God huddles in a knot in every cell of esh.
When I break a fruit open, this is how every seed is
revealed to me. When I speak to men, this what I
discern in their thick and muddy brains.
God struggles in every thing, his hands ung upward
toward the light. What light? Beyond and above
every thing!
Pain is not the only essence of our God, nor is hope
in a future life or a life on this earth, neither joy
nor victory. Every religion that holds up to worship
one of these primordial aspects of God narrows our
What is the purpose of this struggle? This is what

the wretched self-seeking mind of man is always
asking, forgetting that the Great Spirit does not
toil within the bounds of human time, place, or
casualty.
The Great Spirit is superior to these human
questionings. It teems with many rich and wandering drives which to our shallow minds seem contradictory; but in the essence of divinity they fraternize
and struggle together, faithful comrades-in-arms.
The primordial Spirit branches out, overows,
struggles, fails, succeeds, trains itself. It is the
Rose of the Winds.
All hopes and despairs vanish in the voracious,
funneling whirlwind of God. God laughs, wails,
kills, sets us on re, and then leaves us in the middle
of the way, charred embers.
And I rejoice to feel between my temples, in the
icker of an eyelid, the beginning and the end of
the world.
I condense into a lightning moment the seeding,
sprouting, blossoming, fructifying, and the disappearance of every tree, animal, man, star, and god.
All Earth is a seed planted in the coils of my mind.
Whatever struggles for numberless years to unfold
and fructify in the dark womb of matter bursts in
my head like a small and silent lightning ash.
Ah! let us gaze intently on this lightning ash, let us
hold it for a moment, let us arrange it into human
speech.
Let us transx this momentary eternity which
encloses everything, past and future, but without losing in the immobility of language any of
its gigantic erotic whirling.
Every word is an Ark of the Covenant around which
we dance and shudder, divining God to be its dreadful inhabitant.
You shall never be able to establish in words that you
live in ecstasy. But struggle unceasingly to establish
it in words. Battle with myths, with comparisons,
with allegories, with rare and common words, with
exclamations and rhymes, to embody it in esh, to
transx it!
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QUOTES
God, the Great Ecstatic, works in the same way. He

speaks and struggles to speak in every way He can,
with seas and with res, with colors, with wings,
with horns, with claws, with constellations and butteries, that he may establish His ecstasy.
Like every other living thing, I also am in the
center of the Cosmic whirlpool.
God confronts me with terror and love for I am
His only hope and says: "This Ecstatic, who
gives birth to all things, who rejoices in them all
and yet destroys them, this Ecstatic is my Son!"
The Action : The Relationship Between God and Man
We have seen the highest circle of spiraling powers. We have

named this circle God...
Every body, every soul is a Holy Sepulcher. Every seed of grain

is a Holy Sepulchre; let us free it!
It is not God who will save us it is we who will save God, by

battling, by creating, and by transmuting matter into spirit.
small and eeting life to his.

Only thus may we mortals succeed in achieving
something immortal, because then we collaborate
with One who is Deathless.
Only thus may we conquer mortal sin, the concentration on details, the narrowness of our brains; only
thus may we transubstantiate into freedom the slavery of earthen matter given us to mold.
Our God is not an abstract thought, a logical necessity, a high

and harmonious structure made of deductions and speculations.
The ultimate most holy form of theory is action.

Not to look on passively while the spark leaps from
generation to generation, but to leap and to burn with
it!
Our profound human duty is not to interpret or
to cast light on the rhythm of Gods arch, but
to adjust, as much as we can, the rhythm of our
Amid all these things, beyond all these things every

man and nation, every plant and animal, every god
and demon, charges upward like an army inamed
by an incomprehensible, unconquerable Spirit.
We struggle to make this Spirit visible, to give it a
face, to encase it in words, in allegories and thoughts
and incantations, that it may not escape us.
But it cannot be contained in the twentysix letters of
an alphabet which we string out in rows; we know
that all these words, these allegories, these thoughts,
and these incantations are, once more, but a new
mask with which to conceal the Abyss.
We have seen the highest circle of spiraling powers. We have named this circle God. We might
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we have shattered this particular mask of the
Abyss; our God no longer ts under the old features.
Our hearts have overbrimmed with new agonies,
with new luster and silence. The mystery has
grown savage, and God has grown greater. The
dark powers ascend, for they have also grown
greater, and the entire human island quakes.
Let us stoop down to our hearts and confront the
Abyss valiantly. Let us try to mold once more, with
our esh and blood, the new, contemporary face of
God.
For our God is not an abstract thought, a logical necessity, a high and harmonious structure
made of deductions and speculations.
He is not an immaculate, neutral, odorless, distilled product of our brains, neither male nor female.
He is both man and woman, mortal and immortal, dung and spirit. He gives birth, fecundates, slaughters death and eros in one and
then he begets and slays once more, dancing spaciously beyond the boundaries of a logic which
cannot contain the antinomies.
My prayer is the report of a soldier to his general: This is what I

did today, this is how I fought to save the entire battle in my own
sector, these are the obstacles I encountered, this is how I plan to
ght tomorrow.
have given it any other name we wished: Abyss,

Mystery, Absolute Darkness, Absolute Light,
Matter, Spirit, Ultimate Hope, Ultimate Despair, Silence.
But we have named it God because only this
name, for primordial reasons, can stir our hearts
profoundly. And this deeply felt emotion is indispensable if we are to touch, body with body, the
dread essence beyond logic.
Within this gigantic circle of divinity we are in duty
bound to separate and perceive clearly the small,
burning arc of our epoch.
Unsourced variant or paraphrase: We
might have given it any name we wished:
Abyss, Absolute Darkness, Absolute Light,
Matter, Spirit, Ultimate Hope, Ultimate Despair, Silence. But never forget, it is we who
give it a name.
I do not care what face other ages and other people have given to the enormous, faceless essence.
They have crammed it with human virtues, with rewards and punishments, with certain ties. They have
given a face to their hopes and fears, they have submitted their anarchy to a rhythm, they have found a
higher justication by which to live and labor. They
have fullled their duty.
But today we have gone beyond these needs;
God is imperiled. He is not almighty, that we may

cross our hands, waiting for certain victory. He is
not all-holy, that we may wait trustingly for him to
pity and to save us.
Within the province of our ephemeral esh all of
God is imperiled. He cannot be saved unless we
save him with our own struggles; nor can we be
saved unless he is saved.
We are one. From the blind worm in the depths of
the ocean to the endless arena of the Galaxy, only
one person struggles and is imperiled: You. And
within your small and earthen breast only one thing
struggles and is imperiled: the Universe.
We must understand well that we do not proceed
from a unity of God to the same unity of God
again. We do not proceed from one chaos to another chaos, neither from one light to another light,
nor from one darkness to another darkness. What
would be the value of our life then? What would be
the value of all life?
But we set out from an almighty chaos, from a thick
abyss of light and darkness tangled. And we struggle
plants, animals, men, ideas in this momentary
passage of individual life, to put in order the Chaos
within us, to cleanse the abyss, to work upon as much
darkness as we can within our bodies and to transmute it into light.
We do not struggle for ourselves, nor for our
race, not even for humanity.
We do not struggle for Earth, nor for ideas. All
these are the precious yet provisional stairs of our
12
QUOTES
ascending God, and they crumble away as soon as

he steps upon them in his ascent.
In the smallest lightning ash of our lives, we feel
all of God treading upon us, and suddenly we understand: if we all desire it intensely, if we organize
all the visible and invisible powers of earth and ing
them upward, if we all battle together like fellow
combatants eternally vigilant then the Universe
might possibly be saved.
It is not God who will save us it is we who will
save God, by battling, by creating, and by transmuting matter into spirit.
Life is a crusade in the service of God. Whether
we wished to or not, we set out as crusaders to free What is our duty? To struggle so that a small ower may blossom
not the Holy Sepulchre but that God buried in from the dunghill of our esh and mind.
matter and in our souls.
Every body, every soul is a Holy Sepulcher. Every seed of grain is a Holy Sepulchre; let us free
it! The brain is a Holy Sepulchre, God sprawls
within it and battles with death; let us run to his assistance!
My prayer is not the whimpering of a beggar nor
a confession of love. Nor is it the petty reckoning
of a small tradesman: Give me and I shall give you.
My prayer is the report of a soldier to his general:
This is what I did today, this is how I fought to
save the entire battle in my own sector, these are
the obstacles I encountered, this is how I plan to
ght tomorrow.
The star dies, but the light never dies; such also is the cry of
My God and I are horsemen galloping in the burn- freedom.

ing sun or under drizzling rain. Pale, starving, but
unsubdued, we ride and converse.
man, who varies within time and space, but the salLeader!" I cry. He turns his face toward me, and I
vation of God, who within a wide variety of owing
shudder to confront his anguish.
human forms and adventures is always the same, the
Our love for each other is rough and ready, we sit at
indestructible rhythm which battles for freedom.
the same table, we drink the same wine in this low
We, as human beings, are all miserable persons,
tavern of life.
heartless, small, insignicant. But within us a superior essence drives us ruthlessly upward.
The Action : The Relationship Between Man and
From within this human mire divine songs have
Man
welled up, great ideas, violent loves, an unsleeping
assault full of mystery, without beginning or end,
without purpose, beyond every purpose.
What is the essence of our God? The struggle for
freedom. In the indestructible darkness a aming
line ascends and emblazons the march of the Invisible. What is our duty? To ascend with this blooddrenched line.
Whatever rushes upward and helps God to ascend is good. Whatever drags downward and
impedes God from ascending is evil.
All virtues and all evils take on a new value. They are
freed from the moment and from earth, they exist
completely within man, before and after man, eternally.
For the essence of our ethic is not the salvation of
Humanity is such a lump of mud, each one of us

is such a lump of mud. What is our duty? To
struggle so that a small ower may blossom from
the dunghill of our esh and mind.
Out of things and esh, out of hunger, out of fear,
out of virtue and sin, struggle continually to create
God.
How does the light of a star set out and plunge into
black eternity in its immortal course? The star dies,
but the light never dies; such also is the cry of
1.1
13
Eros? What other name may we give that impetus which becomes
enchanted as soon as it casts its glance on matter and then longs
to impress its features upon it?
freedom.
At every moment of crisis an array of men risk their lives in the
Out of the transient encounter of contrary forces front ranks as standard-bearers of God to ght and take upon
which constitute your existence, strive to create themselves the whole responsibility of the battle.
whatever immortal thing a mortal may create in this
world a Cry.
And this Cry, abandoning to the earth the body
which gave it birth, proceeds and labors eternally.
A vehement eros runs through the Universe. It is
like the ether: harder than steel, softer than air.
It cuts through and passes beyond all things, it ees
and escapes.
Eros? What other name may we give that impetus which becomes enchanted as soon as it casts
its glance on matter and then longs to impress its This is our epoch, good or bad, beautiful or ugly, rich or poor
features upon it? It confronts the body and longs we did not choose it.
to pass beyond it, to merge with the other erotic cry
hidden in that body, to become one till both may
of them, independent of their desires and deeds. It
vanish and become deathless by begetting sons.
is the spirit, the breathing of God on earth.
It approaches the soul and wishes to merge with it
It descends on men in whatever form it wishes as
inseparably so that you and I may no longer exdance, as eros, as hunger, as religion, as slaughter.
ist; it blows on the mass of man kind and wishes,
It does not ask our permission.
by smashing the resistances of mind and body, to
merge all breaths into one violent gale that may lift
At every moment of crisis an array of men risk
the earth!
their lives in the front ranks as standard-bearers
In moments of crisis this Erotic Love swoops down
of God to ght and take upon themselves the
on men and joins them together by force friends
whole responsibility of the battle.
and foes, good and evil. It is a breath superior to all
14
QUOTES
has found the solution cannot nd me."

This is our epoch, good or bad, beautiful or ugly,
rich or poor we did not choose it. This is our
epoch, the air we breathe, the mud given us, the
bread, the re, the spirit!
Let us accept Necessity courageously. It is our
lot to have fallen on ghting times. Let us tighten
our belts, let us arm our hearts, our minds, and our
bodies. Let us take our place in battle!
Die every day. Be born every day. Deny everything you have
every day. The superior virtue is not to be free but to ght for
freedom.
Do not condescend to ask: Shall we conquer? Shall we be conquered?" Fight on!
Once long ago it was the priests, the kings, the noblemen, or the burghers who created civilizations and
set divinity free.
Today God is the common worker made savage by
toil and rage and hunger
Cries rise up on every side. Who shouts? It is we
who shout the living, the dead, and the unborn.
But at once we are crushed by fear, and we fall silent.
And then we forget out of laziness, out of habit,
out of cowardice. But suddenly the Cry tears at our
entrails once more, like an eagle.
For the Cry is not outside us, it does not come from
a great distance that we may escape it. It sits in the
center of our hearts, and cries out.
God shouts: Burn your houses! I am coming!
Whoever has a house cannot receive me!
Burn your ideas, smash your thoughts! Whoever
It is our duty to help liberate that God who is

stiing in us, in mankind, in masses of people
living in darkness.
We must be ready at any moment to give up our lives
for his sake. For life is not a goal; it is also an instrument, like death, like beauty, like virtue, like knowledge. Whose instrument? Of that God who ghts
for freedom.
We are all one, we are all an imperiled essence.
If at the far end of the world a spirit degenerates, it
drags down our spirit into its own degradation. If
one mind at the far end of the world sinks into idiocy, our own temples over-brim with darkness.
For it is only One who struggles at the far end of
earth and sky. One. And if He goes lost, it is we
who must bear the responsibility. If He goes lost,
then we go lost.
This is why the salvation of the Universe is also
our salvation, why solidarity among men is no
longer a tenderhearted luxury but a deep necessity and self-preservation, as much a necessity
as, in an army under re, the salvation of your
comrade-in-arms.
The essence of our God is obscure. It ripens continuously; perhaps victory is strenghened with our
every valorous deed, but perhaps even all these agonizing struggles toward deliverance and victory are
inferior to the nature of divinity.
Whatever it might be, we ght on without certainty, and our virtue, uncertain of any rewards,
acquires a profound nobility.
God cries to my heart: Save me!"
God cries to men, to animals, to plants, to matter:
Save me!"
Listen to your heart and follow him. Shatter your
body and awake: We are all one.
Love man because you are he.
Love animals and plants because you were they, and
now they follow you like faithful co-workers and
slaves.
Love your body; only with it may you ght on this
earth and turn matter into spirit.
Love matter. God clings to it tooth and nail, and
ghts. Fight with him.
1.1
15
Die every day. Be born every day. Deny everything you have every day. The superior virtue is
not to be free but to ght for freedom.
Do not condescend to ask: Shall we conquer? Shall
we be conquered?" Fight on!
The Action : The Relationship between Man and Nature
All this world, all this rich, endless ow of appearances is not

a deception, a multicolored phantasmagoria of our mirroring
mind. Nor is it absolute reality which lives and evolves freely,
independent of our minds power.
Contend with the powers of nature, force them to the yoke of

superior purpose. Free that spirit which struggles within them
and longs to mingle with that spirit which struggles within you.
In a violent ash of lightning I discern on the highest peak of

power the nal, the most fearful pair embracing
Even the most humble insect and the most insignicant idea are
the military encampments of God.
All this world, all this rich, endless ow of appearances is not a deception, a multicolored
phantasmagoria of our mirroring mind. Nor is
it absolute reality which lives and evolves freely,
independent of our minds power.
It is not the resplendent robe which arrays the mystic body of God. Nor the obscurely translucent partition between man and mystery.
All this world that we see, hear, and touch is that
accessible to the human senses, a condensation of
the two enormous powers of the Universe permeated with all of God.
One power descends and wants to scatter, to come
to a standstill, to die. The other power ascends and
strives for freedom, for immortality.
These two armies, the dark and the light, the
armies of life and of death, collide eternally.
Even the most humble insect and the most insignicant idea are the military encampments of
God. Within them, all of God is arranged in ght-
16
1
ing position for a critical battle.
Even in the most meaningless particle of earth and
sky I hear God crying out: Help me!"
Everything is an egg in which Gods sperm labors
without rest, ceaselessly. Innumerable forces within
and without it range themselves to defend it.
With the light of the brain, with the ame of the
heart, I besiege every cell where God is jailed, seeking, trying, hammering to open a gate in the fortress
of matter, to create a gap through which God may
issue in heroic attack.
QUOTES
Joy! Joy! I did not know that all this world is so

much part of me, that we are all one army, that windowers and stars struggle to right and left of me and
do not know me; but I turn to them and hail them.
The Universe is warm, beloved, familiar, and it
smells like my own body. It is Love and War both,
a raging restlessness, persistence and uncertainty.
Uncertainty and terror. In a violent ash of lightning I discern on the highest peak of power the
nal, the most fearful pair embracing:
Terror and Silence. And between them, a Flame.
Contend with the powers of nature, force them The Silence

to the yoke of superior purpose. Free that spirit
which struggles within them and longs to mingle
with that spirit which struggles within you.
We do not only free God by battling and subduing
the visible world about us; we also create God.
Open your eyes, God shouts; I want to see! Prick
up your ears, I want to hear! March in the front
ranks: you are my head!"
Every man has his own circle composed of trees,
animals, men, ideas, and he is in duty bound to
save this circle. He, and no one else. If he does
not save it, he cannot be saved.
These are the labors each man is given and is in duty
bound to complete before he dies. He may not otherwise be saved. For his own soul is scattered and
enslaved in these things about him, in trees, in animals, in men, in ideas, and it is his own soul he saves
by completing these labors.
If you are a man of learning, ght in the skull,
kill ideas and create new ones. God hides in every
idea as in every cell of esh. Smash the idea, set
him free! Give him another, a more spacious idea
in which to dwell.
Profound and incommensurable is the worth of
this owing world: God clings to it and ascends,
God feeds upon it and increases.
The wife of my God is matter; they wrestle with each
other, they laugh and weep, they cry out in the nuptial bed of esh.
They spawn and are dismembered. They ll sea,
land, and air with species of plants, animals, men,
and spirits. This primordial pair embraces, is dismembered, and multiplies in every living creature.
All the concentrated agony of the Universe
bursts out in every living thing. God is imperiled in the sweet ecstasy and bitterness of esh.
But he shakes himself free, he leaps out of brains and
loins, then clings to new brains and new loins until
the struggle for liberation again breaks out from the
beginning.
Time disappears, the moment whirls, becomes eternity, and every

point in space insect or star or idea turns into dance.
"Fire is the rst and nal mask of my God. We

dance and weep between two enormous pyres.
Our thoughts and our bodies ash and glitter with reected light. Between the two pyres I stand serenely,
my brain unshaken amid the vertigo, and I say:
Time is most short and space most narrow between
these two pyres, the rhythm of this life is most sluggish, and I have no time, nor a place to dance in. I
cannot wait.
Then all at once the rhythm of the earth becomes
a vertigo, time disappears, the moment whirls, becomes eternity, and every point in space insect
or star or idea turns into dance.
This ultimate stage of our spiritual exercise is
called Silence. Not because its contents are the ulti-
1.2
The Odyssey : A Modern Sequel (1938)
17
AND BEHIND HIS CEASELESS FLUX I DISCERN AN INDESTRUCTIBLE UNITY.
BLESSED BE ALL THOSE WHO HEAR AND
RUSH TO FREE YOU, LORD, AND WHO SAY:
ONLY YOU AND I EXIST.
BLESSED BE ALL THOSE WHO FREE YOU
AND BECOME UNITED WITH YOU, LORD,
AND WHO SAY: YOU AND I ARE ONE.
AND THRICE BLESSED BE THOSE WHO
BEAR ON THEIR SHOULDERS AND DO NOT
BUCKLE UNDER THIS GREAT, SUBLIME,
AND TERRIFYING SECRET:
THAT EVEN THIS ONE
DOES NOT EXIST!
1.2
Every person, after completing his service in all labors, reaches
nally the highest summit of endeavor, beyond every labor,
where he no longer struggles or shouts, where he ripens fully in
silence, indestructibly, eternally, with the entire Universe.

As translated by Kimon Friar
mate inexpressible despair or the ultimate inexpressible joy and hope. Nor because it is the ultimate
knowledge which does not condescend to speak, or
the ultimate ignorance which cannot.
Silence means: Every person, after completing his
service in all labors, reaches nally the highest summit of endeavor, beyond every labor, where he no
longer struggles or shouts, where he ripens fully in silence, indestructibly, eternally, with the entire Universe.
O Sun, great Oriental, my proud mind's golden cap, I love to wear
How can you reach the womb of the Abyss to you cocked askew and to burst in song to rouse our hearts, so long
make it fruitful? This cannot be expressed, can- as you and I both live...
not be narrowed into words, cannot be subjected
to laws; every man is completely free and has his
O Sun, great Oriental, my proud minds golden
own special liberation.
cap,
No form of instruction exists, no Savior exists to
I love to wear you cocked askew, to play and
open up the road. No road exists to be opened.
burst
in song throughout our lives, and so rejoice our
Within profound Silence, erect, fearless, in pain and
hearts.
in play, ascending ceaselessly from peak to peak,
knowing that the height has no ending, sing this
proud and magical incantation as you hang over the
Abyss:
I BELIEVE IN ONE GOD, DEFENDER OF
THE BORDERS, OF DOUBLE DESCENT, MILITANT, SUFFERING, OF MIGHTY BUT NOT
OF OMNIPOTENT POWERS, A WARRIOR AT
THE FARTHEST FRONTIERS, COMMANDERIN-CHIEF OF ALL THE LUMINOUS POWERS,
THE VISIBLE AND THE INVISIBLE.
I BELIEVE IN THE INNUMERABLE, THE
EPHEMERAL MASKS WHICH GOD HAS ASSUMED THROUGHOUT THE CENTURIES,
Variant: O Sun, great Oriental, my proud

minds golden cap,
I love to wear you cocked askew and to burst
in song
to rouse our hearts, so long as you and I both
live.
Prologue, line 1
With silent strides Odysseus then shot back the bolt,
passed lightly through the courtyard and sped down
the street.
Some saw him take the graveyards zigzag mountain
18
QUOTES
A woman's body is a dark and monstrous mystery...

We will not leave! We guard the innocent soul of man!
And now, my gallant lads... that worms god-slaying sword has

fallen into my hands...
path,
some saw him leap on rocks that edged the savage
shore,
some visionaries saw him in the dead of night
Speak straight and clear! I only hear that manly prayer

which like a huge st breaks my head against the stones.
swimming and talking secretly with the sea-demons,

but only a small boy saw him in a lonely dream
1.2
19
A slave's soul has no worth, my brothers; it lacks strength

to tread on this great earth with gallantry and freedom...
Who holds a sword is tempted, who has youth must play, he who
does not fear death on earth does not fear God.
I know well that only words, that words alone,

like the high mountains, have no fear of age or death.
sit crouched and weeping by the dark seas foaming

edge.
Book II, line 457
Blessed be that haughty mind that aimed at the greatest hope!
A womans body is a dark and monstrous mystery;

between her supple thighs a heavy whirlpool swirls,
two rivers crash, and woe to him who slips and falls!
Odysseus, Book II, line 1017
20
QUOTES
rushed up and slew that old decrepit god in heaven!

And now, my gallant lads I don't know when
or how
that worms god-slaying sword has fallen into my
hands;
I swear that from its topmost iron tip the blood
still drips!
Odysseus song, Book III, line 424
I've always fought to purify wild ame to light,

and kindle whatever light I found to burst in ame.
The rosy mountain peaks laughed like high lustrous

thoughts,
and Helen, speechless, raised her pale hands toward
the sun
and joyed to feel its warm rays falling on her frozen
palms.
Book IV, line 1361
I've fought with men and gods, I've weighed them well and found
the sea more rm than earth, the air more rm than sea,
and mans impalpable soul still yet more rm than air!
Deaths dry bones glowed with light in the erotic

dark
but he woke not nor felt the two warm bodies merge;
the male worm then took heart and in his wifes ear
whispered:
With one sweet kiss, dear wife, we've conquered
conquering Death!"
Orpheus song, Book III, line 178
The worm stood straight on Gods bloodsplattered threshold then
and beat his drum, beat it again, and raised his
throat:
'You've matched all well on earth, wine, women,
bread, and song,
but why, you Murderer, must you slay our children?
Why?'
God foamed with rage and raised his sword to pierce
that throat,
but his old copper sword, my lads, stuck at the bone.
Then from his belt the worm drew his black-hilted
sword,
Thus did the Holy Harlots unhinge the brains of

man,
and when they met and clashed with the pure Mountain Maidens,
they raised their white arms high, their armpits
smelled of musk,
and, as the rites decreed, both fought their verbal
war:
God swoops from mountain peeks to eat and play
on earth;
we are his food and drink and even his sacred toys
and learn, O sterile maids, we are his soft, sweet

mates.
Let her now leave who fears to merge with her dread
God!"
The scornful savage mouth of Krino ashed reply:
We will not leave! We guard the innocent soul of
man!
God is a spirit with pure white wings, a soul that
sails,
light, disembodied, deep in our thoughts, without
embrace.
Its we who keep the world in bloom with virgin
souls!"
From the Bull Ritual, Book VI, line 197
High up where the poor sat, the people quaked with
fear:
they saw the soul stretched on the ground, a votive
beast
beaten by the conicting powers of light and dark,
and their minds shook, nor knew now what great god
to choose,
for comforts road dropped to the right, the rough
ascent
rose to the left, and both roads seemed to lead to
God,
while at the crossroads stood the human heart,
and swayed.
1.2

Book VI, line 242
Thus night with all her snares passed through the upper world
and baited all heads sweetly, fed all foolish hopes,
for night can bring to men all shrewish day denies,
wrapped as a gift in the green leaves of opiate dream.
Book VII, line 356
Death gestured with his hands and bade the king
thrice welcome.
Book VIII, line 168
Her green eyes uttered swiftly twice or thrice, then
glazed,
her mouth gaped open, bleating, then her jaws hung
loose
and retched up all her soul in lumps of clotting
blood.
Death of Phida, Book VIII, line 410
Speak straight and clear! I only hear that manly
prayer
which like a huge st breaks my head against the
stones.
Odysseus, Book VIII, line 530
Who holds a sword is tempted, who has youth
must play,
he who does not fear death on earth does not fear
God.
Alas for him who seeks salvation in good only!
Balanced on Gods strong shoulders, Good and Evil
ap
together like two mighty wings and lift him high.
But we, O blockhead, with dogged spite and armored love
shall force those deaf dark powers to grow ears
and hear us!
I know that God is earless, eyeless, and heartless too,
a brainless Dragon Worm that crawls on earth and
hopes
in anguish and then in secret that we'll give him soul,
for then he, too, may sprout ears, eyes, to match his
growth,
but God is clay in my ten ngers, and I mould him!
Odysseus to Kentaur, Book VIII, line 829
21
Blessed are those eyes that have seen more water
than any man!
Blessed be that haughty mind that aimed at the
greatest hope!
May you be blessed who row the current your life
long
and now with dry unfreshened lips descend to Hades
to nd the hidden deathless springs and slake your
thirst!
My son, its death who keeps and pours the deathless
waters.
Voice of the Nile, from Odysseus story, Book
VIII, line 1290 (the rst line is taken from an
Egyptian hieroglyph.)
May he be cursed on earth who gives his trust to

virtue,
that bankrupt crone who takes our lifes pure gold
and gives
but bad receipts for payment in the lower world.
Ah, passers-by that stroll, travelers that come and
go,
all that I had, I placed on virtue, and lost the game!
Book IX, line 402
A slaves soul has no worth, my brothers; it lacks
strength
to tread on this great earth with gallantry and
freedom.
I pity the poor slaves, they're nought but airy mist,
a light breeze scatters them, a fragrance knocks them
down;
its only just they crawl on the earth on hands and
knees.
Today I'll write a hymn to God and pray for this great
grace.
Egyptian high priest, Book X, line 90
Cursed be all those on land and sea who eat their ll,
cursed be all those who starve yet raise no hand in
protest,
cursed be all the bread, the wine, the meat which
day by day
descends deep in the entrails of the exploited man
and turns not into freedoms cry, the murderers
ruthless knife!
Prayer of three revolutionaries, Book X, line
391
Fools, art is a heavy task, more heavy than gold
crowns;
its far more dicult to match rm words than
armies,
they're disciplined troops, unconquered, to be
placed in rhythm,
22
1
the minds most mighty foe, and not disperse in air. 1.3
I'd give, believe me, a whole land for one good song,
for I know well that only words, that words alone,
like the high mountains, have no fear of age or
death.
QUOTES
Zorba the Greek (1946)
Pharaoh, Book X, line 688

Comrades, I've voyaged long and far on sea and soul,
my eyes have seen disease, gods, ghosts, and men,
and yet
in no land have I seen a more false, murderous siren
than that wind-headed, babbling, blind bitch-hound
called Hope!
Odysseus, Book X, line 892
Monarch of earth, I shall confess my secret craft:
I've always fought to purify wild ame to light,
and kindle whatever light I found to burst in All that is required to feel that here and now is happiness is a
simple, frugal heart.
ame.
Odysseus to Hades, Book XI, line 145
Crocodiles sweetly shut their lidded eyes, and
yawned,
for the blond meat had been quite good, and in slow
rains
new esh would sprout once more and then be
munched anew.
Book XI, line 652
Descend you weary-laden, descend in the dark earth,
help me to nish swiftly my dread masters shroud,
let each hem hold my pain, each corner hide a crow, The highest point a man can obtain is not Knowledge, or Virtue,
a lean, voracious crow to peck his heart out bit by or Goodness, or Victory, but something even greater, more heroic
and more despairing: Sacred Awe!
bit.
Slaves prayer, Book XI, line 708
I hate all virtues based on food and bloated bellies;
though food and drink are good, I'm better slaked
and fed
by that inhuman ame which burns in our black
bowels.
I like to name that ame which burns within me
God!
Odysseus, Book XI, line 840
I've fought with men and gods, I've weighed
them well and found
the sea more rm than earth, the air more rm
than sea,
and mans impalpable soul still yet more rm
than air!
Odysseus, Book XI, line 846
To cleave that sea in the gentle autumnal season,

murmuring the name of each islet, is to my mind
the joy most apt to transport the heart of man into
paradise.
On the Aegean Sea, in Ch. 2
Two equally steep and bold paths may lead to the
same peak. To act as if death did not exist, or to act
thinking every minute of death, is perhaps the same
thing.
Ch. 3
While experiencing happiness, we have diculty in
being conscious of it. Only when the happiness
is past and we look back on it we do suddenly
realize sometimes with astonishment how
happy we had been.
1.4
The Last Temptation of Christ (1951)
23
Ch. 6
How simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass
of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier,
the sound of the sea. . . . All that is required to feel
that here and now is happiness is a simple, frugal
heart.
Ch. 7
Every village has its simpleton, and if one does
not exist they invent one to pass the time.
Ch. 8
In religions which have lost their creative spark,
the gods eventually become no more than poetic
motifs or ornaments for decorating human solitude and walls.
Ch. 12
As I watched the seagulls, I thought: Thats the road
to take; nd the absolute rhythm and follow it with
absolute trust.
I wanted to oer a supreme model to the man who struggles; I

wanted to show him that he must not fear pain, temptation or
death because all three can be conquered, all three have already been conquered.
Ch. 21
What a strange machine man is! You ll him
with bread, wine, sh, and radishes, and out
comes sighs, laughter, and dreams.
Ch. 23
The highest point a man can obtain is not
Knowledge, or Virtue, or Goodness, or Victory,
but something even greater, more heroic and
more despairing: Sacred Awe!
Ch. 24
1.4
The Last Temptation of Christ (1951)
This is the Supreme Duty of the man who struggles to set out for the lofty peak which Christ,
the rst-born sone of salvation, attained. How
can we begin?
If we are to follow him we must have a profound
knowledge of his conict, we must relive his anguish: his victory over the blossoming snares of the
earth, his sacrice of the great and small joys of men
and his ascent from sacrice to sacrice, exploit to
exploit, to martyrdoms summit, the Cross.
I wanted to oer a supreme model to the man
who struggles; I wanted to show him that he
must not fear pain, temptation or death because all three can be conquered, all three have
already been conquered.
The doors of heaven and hell are adjacent and identical.
This book is not a biography; it is the confession

of every man who struggles. In publishing it I
have fullled my duty, the duty of a person who
struggled much, was embittered in his life,
and had many hopes. I am certain that

every free man who reads this book, so lled
as it
is with love, will more than ever before, love
Christ.
The more devils we have within us, the more
chance we have to form angels.
Ch. 10
Do you believe in dreams, Uncle Simeon? I do; I believe in nothing else. One night I dreamed that invis-
24
QUOTES
ible enemies had me tied to a dead cypress. Long red

arrows were sticking into me from my head to my
feet, and the blood was owing. On my head they
had placed a crown of thorns, and intertwined with
the thorns were ery letters which said: Saint Blasphemer. I am Saint Blasphemer, Rabbi Simeon. So
you'd better not ask me anything else, or I'll start my
blasphemies.
Ch. 10
Theres a devil inside me which cries, You're not
the son of the Carpenter, you're the son of King
Every man worthy of being called a son of man bears his cross
David! You are not a man, you are the Son of man
and mounts his Golgotha.
whom Daniel prophesied. And still more: The Son
of God! And still more: God!"
Ch. 10
Outside the wind of Jehovah still beat on the door,
trying to enter. There was no other sound. Not a
jackal on the earth, nor a crow in the air. Every
living thing cowered in fear, waiting for the Lords
anger to pass.
Ch. 10
The doors of heaven and hell are adjacent and
identical.
Ch. 18
If you love me, be patient. Look at the trees. Are
they in a hurry to ripen their fruit?
I possess no weapon but love. With that I have
come to do battle. Help me!
I said only one word, brought only one message:
Love. Love nothing else.
How can anyone see the only way the world can be
saved and not be forced to weep?
1.5
Report to Greco (1965)

The rst English edition was translated and published by Bruno Cassirer, Oxford (1965); this section uses primarily the translation by P. A. Bien,
Faber and Faber Limited (1973)
My entire soul is a cry, and all my work the commentary on that cry.
Authors Introduction, p. 15
Overdraw me, Lord, and who cares if I break.
Every man worthy of being called a son of man

bears his cross and mounts his Golgotha. Many,
indeed most, reach the rst or second step, collapse
pantingly in the middle of the journey, and do not
attain the summit of Golgotha, in other words the
summit of their duty: to be crucied, resurrected,
and to save theirs souls. Afraid of crucixion, they
grow fainthearted; they do not know that the cross
is the only path to resurrection. There is no other
path.
Authors Introduction, p. 15
1.5
25
Three kinds of souls, three prayers:

1) I am a bow in your hands, Lord. Draw me,
lest I rot.
2) Do not overdraw me, Lord. I shall break.
3) Overdraw me, Lord, and who cares if I break.
Epigraph, p. 16
Beauty is merciless. You do not look at it, it looks at you and does
not forgive.
General, the battle draws to a close and I make

my report. This is where and how I fought. I fell I thank God that this refreshing childhood vision still lives inside
wounded, lost heart, but did not desert. Though me in all its fullness of color and sound...
my teeth clattered from fear, I bound my forehead tightly with a red handkerchief to hide the
Since we cannot change reality, let us change
blood, and ran to the assault.
the eyes which see reality, says one of my favorite
Before you shall pluck out the precious feathers of
Byzantine mystics. I did this when a child; I do it
my jackdaw soul, one by one, until it remains a tiny
now as well in the most creative moments of my life.
clod of earth kneaded with blood, sweat, and tears.
I shall relate my struggle to you in order to un The Son, Ch. 4, p. 45
burden myself. I shall cast o virtue, shame, and
truth in order to unburden myself. My soul resembles your creation Toledo in the Storm"; girded
by yellow thunderbolts and oppressive black clouds,
ghting a desperate, unbending battle against both
light and darkness. You will see my soul, will weigh
it between your lanceolate eyebrows, and will judge.
Do you remember the grave Cretan saying, Return
where you have failed, leave where you have succeeded"? If I failed, I shall return to the assault
though but a single hour of life remains to me. If I
succeeded, I shall open the earth so that I may come
and recline at your side.
Listen, therefore, to my report, general, and judge.
Listen to my life, grandfather, and if I fought with
you, if I fell wounded and allowed no one to learn
of my suering, if I never turned my back to the
enemy: Give me your blessing!
Every word is an adamantine shell which encloses a great explo Prologue, p. 23
Beauty is merciless. You do not look at it, it looks
at you and does not forgive.
sive force. To discover its meaning you must let it burst inside you
like a bomb and in this way liberate the soul which it imprisons.
I thank God that this refreshing childhood vi-
26
QUOTES
sion still lives inside me in all its fullness of color

and sound. This is what keeps my mind untouched by wastage, keeps it from withering and
running dry. It is the sacred drop of immortal water which prevents me from dying. When
I wish to speak of the sea, woman, or God in my
writing, I gaze down in my breast and listen carefully to what the child within me says. He dictates to
me; and if it sometimes happens that I come close to
these great forces of the sea, woman, and God, approach them by means of words and depict them,
I owe it to the child who still lives within me. I
become a child again to enable myself to view the
world always for the rst time, with virgin eyes.
The Son, Ch. 4, p. 49
Every word is an adamantine shell which encloses a great explosive force. To discover its
meaning you must let it burst inside you like a bomb
and in this way liberate the soul which it imprisons. I realized to what an extent earthly happiness is made to the
measure of man.
Massacre, Ch. 10, p. 88
Happiness is a domestic bird found in our own courtyards.

Everything is a unity and this unity is a profound mystic intoxication in which death loses its scythe and ceases to exist.
A magical portal opened inside my mind and

conducted me into an astonishing world. Before this moment I had divined but had never known
with such positiveness that the world is extremely
large and that suering and toil are the companions
and fellow warriors not only of Cretan, but of every
man. that by means of poetry all this suering
and eort could be transformed into dream; no
matter how much of the ephemeral existed, poetry could immortalize it by turning it into song.
Naxos, Ch. 11, p. 96
I felt that human partitions bodies, brains,

and souls were capable of being demolished,
and that humanity might return again, after
frightfully bloody wandering, to its primeval, divine oneness. In this condition, there is no such
thing as me, you, and he"; everything is a
unity and this unity is a profound mystic intoxication in which death loses its scythe and ceases
to exist. Separately, we die one by one, but all
together we are immortal. Like prodigal sons, after so much hunger, thirst, and rebellion, we spread
our arms and embrace our two parents: heaven and
earth.
Liberty, Ch. 12, p. 105
1.5
Once more I realized to what an extent earthly

happiness is made to the measure of man. It is
not a rare bird which we must pursue at one moment in heaven, at the next in our minds. Happiness is a domestic bird found in our own courtyards.
27
Jerusalem, Ch. 20, p. 249-50
Italy, Ch. 18, p. 182

How dicult, how extremely dicult for the
soul to sever itself from its body the world: from
mountains, seas, cities, people. The soul is an
octopus and these are its tentacles. No force
anywhere on earth is as imperialistic as the human soul. It occupies and is occupied in turn,
but it always considers its empire too narrow.
Suocating, it desires to conquer the world in
order to breathe freely.
Whoever climbed the Lords mountain had to possess clean hands
My Friend The Poet. Mount Athos., Ch. 19, and an innocent heart; otherwise the Summit would kill him. Today the doorway is deserted. Soiled hands and sinful hearts are
p. 188
able to pass by without fear, for the Summit kills no longer.
As long as our souls remain strong, that is all

that matters; as long as they don't decline. Because with the fall of certain souls in this world,
the world itself will collapse. These are the pillars which support it. They are few, but enough.
My Friend Poet. Mount Athos., Ch. 19, p.
215
One day our Sodom and Gomorrah would be
trampled by some all-powerful foot, and this
world which laughed, reveled, and forgot God
would be transformed, in its turn, into a Dead
Sea. At the end of every period Gods foot comes
along in this way and tramples the cities of the
overindulged belly, the overdeveloped mind. I
felt afraid (Sometimes it seems to me that this world
is another Sodom and Gomorrah just before Gods
passage above it. I think the terrible foot can already
be heard approaching).
Inhuman solitude made of sand and God. Surely

only two kinds of people can bear to live in such
desert: lunatics and prophets. The mind topples
here not from fright but from sacred awe; sometimes it collapses downward, losing human stability, sometimes it springs upward, enters heaven, sees
God face to face, touches the hem of His blazing garment without being burned, hears what He
says, and taking this, slings it into mens consciousness. Only in the desert do we see the birth of these
erce, indomitable souls who rise up in rebellion
even against God himself and stand before Him fearlessly, their minds in resplendent consubstantiality
with the skirts of the Lord. God sees them and is
proud, because in them his breath has not vented its
force; in them, God has not stooped to becoming a
man.
The Desert. Sinai., Ch. 21, p. 276
Jerusalem, Ch. 20, p. 249

Sodom and Gomorrah reclined along the riverbank
like two whores kissing each other. Men copulated
with other men, women with other women, men
with mares, women with bulls. They ate and overate
from the Tree of Life; they ate and overate from the
Tree of Knowledge. Smashing their sacred statues,
they saw that they were lled with air. Coming very,
very close to God, they said, This God is not the father of Fear, he is the son of Fear, and they lost their
fear. On the four gates to the city they wrote in large
yellow letters, THERE IS NO GOD HERE. What
does There is no God mean? It means there is
no bridle on our instincts, no reward for good or
punishment for evil, no virtue, shame, or justice
that we are wolves and she-wolves in heat.
How can anyone have a true sense of the Hebrew race without crossing this terrifying desert,
without experiencing it? For three interminable
days we crossed it on our camels. Your throat sizzles
from thirst, your head reels, your mind spins about
as serpent-like you follow the sleek tortuous ravine.
When a race is forged for two score years in this
kiln, how can such a race die? I rejoiced at seeing
the terrible stones where the Hebrews virtues were
born: their perseverance, will power, obstinacy, endurance, and above all, a God esh of their esh,
ame of their ame, to whom they cried, "Feed us!
Kill our enemies! Lead us to the Promised Land!"
To this desert the Jews owe their continued survival and the fact that by means of their virtues and
28
2 DISPUTED
cooling breeze. That is where the Lord will be.
This is how the spirit comes. After the gale, the
earthquake, and re: a gentle, cooling breeze.
This is how it will come in our own day as well.
We are passing through the period of earthquake, the re is approaching, and eventually
(when? after how many generations?) the gentle, cool breeze will blow.
Here was an almond tree in bloom before me: I must reach out
and cut a owering branch.
vices they dominate the world. Today, in the unstable period of wrath, vengeance, and violence
through which we are passing, the Jews are of
necessity once again the chosen people of the terrible God of Exodus from the land of bondage.
Jerusalem, Ch. 20, p. 265
I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free.
I heard the bells from the future churches, the

children playing and laughing in the schoolyards
and here was an almond tree in bloom before me: I must reach out and cut a owering
branch. For, by believing passionately in something which still does not exist, we create it. The
nonexistent is whatever we have not suciently
desired, whatever we have not irrigated with our
blood to such a degree that it becomes strong
enough to stride across the somber threshold of
nonexistence.
The nonexistent is whatever we have not suciently desired
Whoever climbed the Lords mountain had to

possess clean hands and an innocent heart; otherwise the Summit would kill him. Today the
doorway is deserted. Soiled hands and sinful
hearts are able to pass by without fear, for the
Summit kills no longer.
Tomorrow, go forth and stand before the Lord.
A great and strong wind will blow over you and rend
the mountains and break in pieces the rocks, but the
Lord will not be in the wind. And after the wind and
earthquake, but the Lord will not be in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a re, but the Lord
will not be in the re. And after the re a gentle,
p. 434; in a few publications since 2008 part

of this has been misattributed to Franz Kafka:
By believing passionately in something which
still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not suciently desired.
2 Disputed
There is only one woman in the world. One
woman, with many faces.
This occurs in the lm The Last Temptation
of Christ (1988), based upon the novel by
Kazantzakis, but has not been located in the
novel itself.
29
to put God under our thumbs. Kazantzakis denes
God in Spain as the Power that always gives
us more than we are able to receive and always
asks for more than we are able to give.
Daniel A. Dombrowski, in Kazantzakis and
God (1997), p. 87
There is only one woman in the world. One woman, with many
faces.
Misattributed
In order to succeed, we must rst believe that we
can.
Michael Korda, in Success! (1977), p. 284
Quotes about Kazantzakis
Kazantzakis indicates that behind all appearances lies a struggling divine essence (the Invisible) that is striving to merge with
our hearts just as the mystic is striving to merge with God's. ~
Daniel Dombrowski
Like Teresa of Avila, Kazantzakis indicates that

behind all appearances lies a struggling divine
essence (the Invisible) that is striving to merge
with our hearts just as the mystic is striving to
merge with Gods. Nonetheless Gods striving is
on a cosmic scale such that there is something trivial involved when we push anthropocentric images
too far in our description of God. Behind any religious face like Buddha's or Confucius's or Jesus' lies
the awesome reality of the Tao of the Great Spirit or
God the Great Ecstatic. We must tame some
passions to unleash some others in Kazantzakiss religious eroticism. But no human passion is sucient
Kazantzakis is very clear about his belief in

some mystic law at work in the world.
It must be admitted that Kazantzakis is at least
tempted by nihilism and atheism. But there are
too many passages in his oeuvre where he makes it
clear he does not want a merely human god. Nor
does he want a god who would be limited by our
puny imagination. It is those who turn Kazantzakiss
partial criticism (and partial appropriation) of traditional theism into an agnosticism or atheism who
are unfaithful to Kazantzakiss texts. neither a
pantheistic nor a Buddhist/nihilist interpretation can
stand up under the the weight of Kazantzakiss many
writings about God.
God (1997), p. 88
I am suggesting that, for Kazantzakis, it is God
who is Immortal. What this means is that
Kazantzakis is searching neither for heaven nor
Nirvana nor ataraxia. Kazantzakis believes in
matter, or better, in the transformation of matter into spirit and in the attachment of an embodied human being to spirit as if fastened by a nail.
The (nonanthropocentric) God of Kazantzakis is
a name given to a dark force at work in the world
that in many ways is more like an agitated Yahweh
or God the Father than like an anesthetic or passive
receiver of human woes. In any event, Kazantzakiss
theism is Buddhist if what you mean by Buddhism
includes a consideration of the aforementioned Unborn or Undying, and it is in the Abrahamic tradition if what one means by Judaism, Christianity,
or Islam is an an embracing of mysticism Bien
puts Kazantzakiss mysticism into focus when he
says that human knowing (gnosis) You and I are
one, Lord is necessarily followed by unknowing (agnosis) Even this one does not exist. The
former element is reminiscent of the kataphatic tradition of Christian mysticism, otherwise known as
the via positiva. But the latter element does not necessarily lead to nihilism, as some scholars allege, in
that it is part of traditional apophatic theology or the
via negativa. This negativity is not absolute, but
rather indicative of the psychic renewal consistent with Buddhism and Christianity (including
Greek Orthodoxy). It is a rest in the life forces
evolution toward ever-increasing value.
God (1997), p. 89
30
External links
Prole at Kirjasto (Pegasos)
Prole at interkriti
The Nikos Kazantzakis Museum, Crete
Historical Museum of Crete for Kazantzakis
Kazantzakis Publications (Patroclos Stavrou)
Kazantzakis at IMDb
EXTERNAL LINKS
31
Text and image sources, contributors, and licenses
6.1
Text
Nikos Kazantzakis Source: https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Nikos_Kazantzakis?oldid=1982902 Contributors: Kalki, Unicorn, Chico,

MosheZadka, Gadjikano, BD2412, UDScott, LeonardoRob0t, InvisibleSun, Hubert22, Antiquary, CommonsDelinker, Nooli, Macedonian~enwikiquote, Macspaunday, ChtitBot, BrownBot, VolkovBot, AnankeBot, Ningauble, RogDel, Omnipaedista, Ole.Holm, Nsofcentresearch, WOSlinker, Tryst, P3Y229, Miszatomic, Undo revision, Dexbot, Morty is here! and Anonymous: 37
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Nikos Kazantzakis

I am a mariner of Odysseus with heart of re but with mind

My entire soul is a cry, and all my work the commentary on that

Nikos Kazantzakis (18 February 1883 26 October

As quoted in Nikos Kazantzakis (1968) by Helen Kazantzakis, p. 507

Having seen that I was not capable of using all my

lieving in the ght, though we entertain no illusions

As quoted in Nikos Kazantzakis (1968) by Helen Kazantzakis, p. 529

Toda Raba (1934)

You gave me your curse, holy Fathers. I give you

Freedom and Death (1956)

A person needs a little madness, or else they

The Saviors of God (1923)

Odyssey of Faith in TIME magazine (6 June

The Saviors of God (1923)

. Salvatores dei [Ascesis : The Saviors of

To SEE and accept the boundaries of the human

I am a weak, ephemeral creature made of mud and dream. But

Behind all appearances, I divine a struggling

and hopes to subdue phenomena. Free yourself

The moment is ripe: leave the heart and the mind

I hold the brimming wineglass and relive the toils of

The Saviors of God (1923)

I surrender myself to everything. I love, I feel pain,

Gather your strength and listen; the whole heart

Hold courageously the passes which I entrusted to

I am NOT nothing! A vaporous phosphorescence

I put my body through its paces like a war horse;

The Cry within me is a call to arms. It shouts: I,

The Saviors of God (1923)

It is not you talking. Nor is it your race only which

The Saviors of God (1923)

Let us transx this momentary eternity which encloses everything,

What is the purpose of this struggle? This is what

God, the Great Ecstatic, works in the same way. He

We have seen the highest circle of spiraling powers. We have

Every body, every soul is a Holy Sepulcher. Every seed of grain

It is not God who will save us it is we who will save God, by

small and eeting life to his.

Our God is not an abstract thought, a logical necessity, a high

The ultimate most holy form of theory is action.

Amid all these things, beyond all these things every

The Saviors of God (1923)

My prayer is the report of a soldier to his general: This is what I

have given it any other name we wished: Abyss,

God is imperiled. He is not almighty, that we may

ascending God, and they crumble away as soon as

My God and I are horsemen galloping in the burn- freedom.

Humanity is such a lump of mud, each one of us

The Saviors of God (1923)

has found the solution cannot nd me."

Do not condescend to ask: Shall we conquer? Shall we be conquered?" Fight on!

It is our duty to help liberate that God who is

The Saviors of God (1923)

All this world, all this rich, endless ow of appearances is not

Contend with the powers of nature, force them to the yoke of

In a violent ash of lightning I discern on the highest peak of

Joy! Joy! I did not know that all this world is so