“We shall see them again,” Friederike Buddenbrook said, folding her hands firmly in her lap; she lowered her eyes and thrust her nose in the air. “Yes, that’s what they say. Oh, there are times, Friederike, when that is no comfort. God strike me, but sometimes I doubt there is any justice, any goodness, I doubt it all. Life, you see, crushes things deep inside us, it shatters our faith. See them again—if only it were so.”
