reading at midnight 🌙

Будинок бажає її, а Будинок - упертий.

- Люди, які завдали тобі болю, давно мертві.
- То я маю дозволити їхнім нащадкам залишитися безкарними? Дозволити їм наживатися на гріхах своїх батьків і дідів?
- Звісно, ні, ні, пішли вони в сраку.

The sun shines, and Hitler is master of this city.

I am a camera with its shutter open, quite passive, recording, not thinking.

It’s no use trying to explain to her, or talking politics. Already she is adapting herself, as she will adapt herself to every new régime. This morning I even heard her talking reverently about “Der Führer” to the porter’s wife. If anybody were to remind her that, at the elections last November, she voted communist, she would probably deny it hotly, and in perfect good faith. She is merely acclimatizing herself, in accordance with a natural law, like an animal which changes its coat for the winter. Thousands of people like Frl. Schroeder are acclimatizing themselves. After all, whatever government is in power, they are doomed to live in this town.

“War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”

... pretending bad things aren’t happening is not a great survival strategy in the long run, but there was nothing I could do about it now.