God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we, the murderers of all murderers, comfort ourselves? What was holiest and most powerful of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives. Who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? [my emphasis] Is not the greatness of this deed too much for us?
For, believe me, the secret of the great fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment of existence is: to live dangerously!
from The Gay Science
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