In sending you this book, I place my secret in the hands of you and your noble wife with the greatest confidence, and assume that it is now your secret. I wrote this book; in it I have revealed my innermost views upon men and things, and for the first time have travelled around the entire periphery of my thoughts. This book was a great consolation to me at a period full of paroxysms and misery, and it never disappointed me when all else failed to console me. I think it not improbable that I am still living just because I was able to write such a book.
I was obliged to resort to a pseudonym for several reasons: in the first place, because I did not wish to counteract the effect of my earlier works; secondly, because this was my only means of preventing a public and private befouling of my personal dignity (something I am no longer able to endure on account of the state of my health); and finally and chiefly, because I wish to make possible a scientific discussion in which all of my intelligent friends could take part, unrestrained by any feelings of delicacy, as has hitherto been the case whenever I have published anything. No one will speak or write against my name!
I know of no one of them who entertains the ideas expressed in this book, and must confess to a great curiosity as to the counter-arguments which such a book will provoke.
I feel very much like an officer who has stormed a breastwork; despite his severe wounds he has reached the top and unfurled his flag, and notwithstanding the terrifying spectacle by which he is surrounded, experiences much more joy than sorrow.
Although I know of no one who shares my views, as I have already said, I am conceited enough to think that I have not thought individually but collectively. I have the most curious feeling of solitude and multitude; of being a herald who has hastened on in advance without knowing whether the band of knights is following or not—in fact, whether they are still living.
Source: The Nietzsche-Wagner Correspondence, ed. Elizabeth Foerster-Nietzsche, trans. Caroline V. Kerr (Boni and Liveright, 1921), No. 54