There Is Cruelty In The World Eliza,

Do You See The Irony At All, Tristan?’ I Stare At Him And Shake My Head. He Seems Determined Not To Speak Again Until I Do. ‘what Irony?’ I Ask Eventually, The Words Tumbling Out In A Hurried Heap. ‘that I Am To Be Shot As A Coward While You Get To Live As One.

The People I See From My Window. In The Huts, In The Distance. They're All Dressed The Same.' 'ah, Those People,' Said Father, Nodding His Head And Smiling Slightly. 'those People...well, They're Not People At All, Bruno.' Bruno Frowned. 'they're Not?' He Asked, Unsure What Father Meant By That.

Bruno Opened His Eyes In Wonder At The Things He Saw. In His Imagination He Had Tough That All The Huts Were Full Of Happy Families, Some Of Whom Sat Outside On Rocking Chairs In The Evening And Told Stories About How Things Were So Much Better When They Were Children And They'd Had Nowadays. He Thought That All The Boys And Girls Who Lived There Would Be In Different Groups, Playing Tennis Or Football, Skipping And Drawing Out Squares For Hopscotch On The Ground. As It Turned Out, All The Things He Thought Might Be There-wern't.'' -the Boy In The Striped Pajamas

...despite The Mayhem That Followed, Bruno Found That He Was Still Holding Shmuel's Hand In His Own And Nothing In The World Would Have Persuaded Him To Let Go.

. . .only The Victims And Survivors Can Truly Comprehend The Awfulness Of That Time And Place; The Rest Of Us Live On The Other Side Of The Fence, Staring Through From Our Own Comfortable Place, Trying In Our Own Clumsy Ways To Make Sense Of It All.