A Hospital Alone Shows What

The Music Enchanted The Air. It Was Like The South Wind, Like A Warm Night, Like Swelling Sails Beneath The Stars, Completely And Utterly Unreal... It Made Everything Spacious And Colourful, The Dark Stream Of Life Seemed Pulsing In It; There Were No Burdens Any More, No Limits; There Existed Only Glory And Melody And Love, So That One Simply Could Not Realize That, At The Same Time As This Music Was, Outside There Ruled Poverty And Torment And Despair.

Keep Things At Arm's Length... If You Let Anything Come Too Near You Want To Hold On To It. And There Is Nothing A Man Can Hold On To.

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.

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.

Trenches, Hospitals, The Common Grave--there Are No Other Possibilities.