For The Villainy Of The World Is

I Was Called Up In The War And Sent To A Hospital. I Dressed Wounds, Applied Iodine, Gave Enemas, Did Blood Transfusions. If The Doctor Ordered: "brecht, Amputate A Leg!", I Would Reply, "certainly, Your Excellency!", And Cut Off The Leg. If I Was Told, "perform A Trepanning!" I Opened The Man's Skull And Messed About With His Brains. I Saw How They Patched Fellows Up, So As To Cart Them Back To The Front As Quickly As They Could.

If Art Reflects Life, It Does So With Special Mirrors.

The First Time It Was Reported That Our Friends Were Being Butchered There Was A Cry Of Horror. Then A Hundred Were Butchered. But When A Thousand Were Butchered And There Was No End To The Butchery, A Blanket Of Silence Spread. When Evil-doing Comes Like Falling Rain, Nobody Calls Out "stop!" When Crimes Begin To Pile Up They Become Invisible. When Sufferings Become Unendurable The Cries Are No Longer Heard. The Cries, Too, Fall Like Rain In Summer.

Sometimes I Have Visions Of Myself Driving Through Hell, Selling Sulphur And Brimstone, Or Through Heaven Peddling Refreshments To The Roaming Souls. If Me And The Children I've Got Left Could Find A Place Where There's No Shooting, I Wouldn't Mind A Few Years Of Peace And Quiet.

Sometimes It's More Important To Be Human, Than To Have Good Taste.