There is something terribly wrong with a culture inebriated by noise and gregariousness.
We know that a man can read Goethe or Rilke in the evening, that he can play Bach and Schubert, and go to his day's work at Auschwitz in the morning.
It took 10 months for me to learn to tie a lace; I must have howled with rage and frustration. But one day I could tie my laces. That no one can take from you. I profoundly distrust the pedagogy of ease.
Every language is a world. Without translation, we would inhabit parishes bordering on silence.
To many men... the miasma of peace seems more suffocating than the bracing air of war.