Wise Words

Even the wolf has two, and more than two,
souls in his wolf's breast, and he who desires to be a wolf falls into the same forgetfulness as the man who
sings: If I could be a child once more! He who sentimentally sings of blessed childhood is thinking of the
return to nature and innocence and the origin of things, and has quite forgotten that these blessed children
are beset with conflict and complexities and capable of all suffering.
There is, in fact, no way back either to the wolf or to the child. From the very start there is no innocence
and no singleness. Every created thing, even the simplest, is already guilty, already multiple. It has been
thrown into the muddy stream of being and may never more swim back again to its source. The way to
innocence, to the uncreated and to God leads on, not back, not back to the wolf or to the child, but ever
further into sin, ever deeper into human life. Nor will suicide really solve your problem, unhappy
Steppenwolf. You will, instead, embark on the longer and wearier and harder road of life. You will have
to multiply many times your two-fold being and complicate your complexities still further. Instead of
narrowing your world and simplifying your soul, you will have to absorb more and more of the world and
at last take all of it up in your painfully expanded soul, if you are ever to find peace. This is the road that
Buddha and every great man has gone, whether consciously or not, insofar as fortune favored his quest.
All births mean separation from the All, the confinement within limitation, the separation from God, the
pangs of being born ever anew. The return into the All, the dissolution of painful individuation, the reunion
with God means the expansion of the soul until it is able once more to embrace the All.

Man designs for himself a garden with a hundred kinds of trees, a thousand kinds of flowers, a hundred
kinds of fruit and vegetables. Suppose, then, that the gardener of this garden knew no other distinctionthan between edible and inedible, nine-tenths of this garden would be useless to him. He would pull up
the most enchanting flowers and hew down the noblest trees and even regard them with a loathing and
envious eye. This is what the Steppenwolf does with the thousand flowers of his soul. What does not
stand classified as either good wold or bad wolf he does not see at all. And consider all that he imputes to man ! All
that is cowardly and apish, stupid and mean--while to the wolf, only because he has not succeeded in
making himself its master, is set down all that is strong and noble.

The two wolves in question

Stupid soraka. Giving up immortality to turn him into an awesome ganker/top.