<!-Quote-!>Quote:"Whither is God," he cried. "I shall tell you. We have killed him--you and I. All of us are his murderers. . . . Do we not hear anything yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we not smell anything yet of God's decomposition? Gods too decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we, the murderers of all murderers, comfort ourselves? . . . Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we not ourselves simply become gods to seem worthy of it?"<!-/Quote-!>
<!-Quote-!>Quote:But when Zarathustra was alone he thus spoke to his heart: "Could it be possible? This old saint has not yet heard anything of this, that God is dead!"<!-/Quote-!>
<!-Quote-!>Quote:The only King you lot ever had was King Hezzy, and look what happened there :P<!-/Quote-!>