The happiness of man is “I will”. The happiness of woman is “He will”.

“Lo, now hath the world become perfect!” Thus thinketh every woman when she obeyeth with all her love.

Obey, must the woman, and find a depth for her surface. Surface is woman’s soul, a mobile, stormy film on shallow water.

Man’s soul, however, is deep, its current gusheth in subterranean caverns; woman surmiseth its force, but comprehendeth it not.’

Then answered me the old woman: ‘Many fine things hath Zarathustra said, especially for those who are young enough for them.

Strange! Zarathustra knoweth little about woman, and yet he is right about them! Doth this happen because with women nothing is impossible?

And now accept a little truth by way of thanks! I am old enough for it!

Swaddle it up and hold its mouth; otherwise it will scream too loudly, the little truth.’

‘Give me, woman, thy little truth!’ said I. And thus spake the old woman:

‘Thou goest to women? Do not forget thy whip!’

Thus spake Zarathustra.