Book: The spark of life. Page 2

You never know which side is in danger...

Skeleton number five hundred and nine slowly raised his head and opened his eyes. He didn't know, oblivion or just a dream. Here between them it's not really different. Both meant a dive into the deep quagmire, of which he seemed never to get up: hunger and exhaustion long ago did the trick.

If the resistance is important, what you achieve, not how you look. Senseless heroism is like a senseless suicide.

It is only in stupid novels you write, if the spirit to break is impossible. I knew the wonderful people turned into a roaring pain from the beast. Almost any resistance can be broken with enough time and the right tools.

We were humiliated, Yes, but we are not humiliated. Humiliated others, those who abused us.

A month ago we knew nothing. And now it seems to us that all long. Strange how things change, barely have hope. And start waiting.

Yesterday, gold mine, now the ashes.

Scared to fall asleep, when it wakes up there again.

Hunger is not only in the stomach, as it were, in the head, in the brain. The stomach-long to the hunger got used and looks like any other feelings, except for stupid and even hungry, in pain, no longer able. But hunger in the brain - it's worse than that. He awakens, hallucinating and generally insatiable. He eats even in dreams.

What he said meant something like this: we're not sentenced to death, we have a tiny chance. That's all - but how huge is the difference between despair and hope.

He gladly would have called to get instructions on how to be. But the phone connection was interrupted. So I had to do what he most hated and feared to go alone.

Handke - not a Nazi. He's as much a prisoner as we are. On the outside, he probably never would kill a human. And here it does, because he has the power, knowing that to us it is useless to complain. His cover up. He is not responsible. Here's the thing. The power and no responsibility - too much power in someone's hands, you know.

The Holy name. But against bombs does not help.

Women are women, and children are children, no matter what language they spoke. But bad luck usually chooses a victim among the innocent, sparing sinners.