The Crowd, Still Shouting, Gives Way Before

The Storm Lashes Us, Out Of The Confusion Of Grey And Yellow The Hail Of Splinters Whips Forth The Childlike Cries Of The Wounded, And In The Night Shattered Life Groans Painfully Into Silence. Our Hands Are Earth, Our Bodies Clay And Our Eyes Pools Of Rain. We Do Not Know Whether We Are Still Alive.

On The Steps Is A Machine-gun Ready For Action. The Square Is Empty; Only The Streets That Lead Into It Are Jammed With People. It Would Be Madness To Go Farther - The Machine-gun Is Covering The Square.

Someone Said To Me Once That A Cigarette At The Right Moment Is Better Than All The Ideals In The World.

The Idea Of Authority, Which They Represented, Was Associated In Our Minds With A Greater Insight And A More Humane Wisdom.

Life Is A Disease, Brother, And Death Begins Already At Birth. Every Breath, Every Heartbeat, Is A Moment Of Dying - A Little Shove Toward The End.