3rd vs h- mustache 3

                     Mustache          

                          3.

Another favorite of his was 'That spoke Zarathustra' by Nietzsche, 
as said before, whose mustache enchanted him to have one of his own,
resembling the philosopher's, For your information, the book begins 
like this:
"At the age of thirty, Zarathustra goes into the wilderness and so enjoys
his spirit and his solitude there that he stays for ten years. Finally, he decides
to return among people, and share with them his over-brimming wisdom.
Like the setting sun, he must descend from the mountain and 'go under.'
Zarathustra begins to preach, proclaiming the over-man........."
When he read it ,he twiddled the mustache on his upper lip
in spite of himself, In the book by Nietzsche, there were many other
phrases letting him not turn over pages.Such sentences as below:
"Man is a rope between beast and overman and must be overcome.
The way across is dangerous, but it must not be abandoned
for otherworldly hopes. Zarathustra urges the people to remain faithful
to this world and this life, and to feel contempt for their all-too-
human happiness, reason, virtue, justice, and pity.
All this will prepare the way for the overman,
who will be the meaning of the earth."
 
There was one more he put by his pillow-side, which was
Macbeth by Shakespeare, and the other  .
The phrase in it he loved in particular is this:
" Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterday have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, briel candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."

And he have never forgotten a  chilly night of the last winter he spent
there when looking outside through the window of the corridor, he heard
someone in the night duty , probably a nurse, humming 
'whispering hope':
Soft as the voice of an angel,
Breathing a lesson unheard
Hope with a gentle persuasion
Whispers her comforting word:
Wait till the darkness is over,
Wait till the tempest is gone,
Hope for the sunshine tomorrow,
After the shower is gone.
In that way he had to spend days and nights,
with just a thin thread of hope that someday he might
leave hospital, sometimes envying the ones who could get better
through the surgical operation ( because it was diagnosed that
he was not the case applicable to surgical treatment), and other times 
the ones who got their chests restored to health by medication.
That way was how he spent his time in the auditorium.
Anyway, 4 years and more had passed since he was hospitalized
there and in it he saw 4 times ( once in a year!)  the cherry flowers
in full bloom falling like snows in large flake through the window 
of his sickroom .To use his words, he never spent a year
without seeing flowers bloom for a while and vanish in a moment. 
He spent another year seeing the sight in the same bed
through the same window. The third and the forth year
passed away ,one by one, exactly the same way.
 
In the morning of his last day in the sanatorium, he filled a large bag
with lots of books and LP records as his belongings. By his side
his mother, who had come the day before,filled another smaller bag
with several kinds of medicine he should keep up taking every day
for at least two years ahead and his other belongings. Walking out of the
corridor of the sanatorium, his mother said in her low voice to him:
"Why didn't you throw away the books of no use? Had I another son,
I and your father might have given you up."