“And sometimes, also, do I find a fugitive creature in my dovecote, which is alien to me, and trembleth when I lay my hand upon it.

“But what did Zarathustra once say unto thee? That the poets lie too much?⁠—But Zarathustra also is a poet.

“Believest thou that he there spake the truth? Why dost thou believe it?”

The disciple answered: “I believe in Zarathustra.” But Zarathustra shook his head and smiled.⁠—

Belief doth not sanctify me, said he, least of all the belief in myself.

But granting that someone did say in all seriousness that the poets lie too much: he was right⁠— we do lie too much.

We also know too little, and are bad learners: so we are obliged to lie.