Rick

“E qui bisogna menzionare anche quanto scritto da Walter Rathenau nelle sue Briefe an eine Liebende: “Le ho detto ciò che penso della morte volontaria, e le dirò ciò su cui non mi sono mai pronunciato: ma poi non voglio più né parlarne né sentirne parlare. […] Ritengo questa fine un'ingiustizia metafisica, un'ingiustizia nei confronti dello spirito. Una mancanza di fiducia nella Bontà eterna, una rivolta contro l'intimo dovere di obbedire alla legge universale. Chi si uccide, uccide e non solo se stesso, ma anche un altro essere. Perché l'uomo non è un'isola. Questa morte, ne sono profondamente convinto, non è una liberazione come quella naturale e incolpevole. Ogni violenza nel mondo ha delle conseguenze, come ogni azione. Esistiamo per prendere su di noi un po' del dolore del mondo offrendo il nostro petto, non per moltiplicarlo facendo a nostra volta violenza. So che lei soffre e io soffro con Lei. Sia indulgente con questo dolore, ed esso sarà indulgente con lei. I desideri e la collera lo accrescono; con la dolcezza esso si addormenta come un bambino. Lei è cosi ricca di amore, lo rivolga tutto agli esseri umani, ai bambini, alle cose e alle sue sofferenze. Non si chiuda nella solitudine, non voglia essere sola. Superi l'ostacolo, lo guardi negli occhi: non è nulla”.”
― Etty Hillesum, Diario 1941-1943

“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

“Vroeger blikte ik in een chaotische toekomst, omdat ik het moment, dat vlak voor me lag, niet wilde beleven. (...) Ik had soms het zekere, doch zeer vage gevoel, dat ik "iets zou kunnen worden" in de toekomst, iets "geweldigs" zou kunnen doen en dan af en toe weer die chaotische angst dat ik "toch wel naar de bliksem zou gaan". Ik begin te begrijpen hoe dat komt. Ik weigerde de vlak voor me liggende taken te doen. Ik weigerde van trede tot trede voort te klimmen voor die toekomst. (...)
Vroeger leefde ik altijd in een voorbereidend stadium, ik had het gevoel dat alles wat ik deed toch niet het "echte" was, maar voorbereiding tot iets anders, iets "groots", iets echts. Maar dat is nu volkomen van me afgevallen. Nu, vandaag, deze minuut leef ik en leef ik volop en is het leven waard geleefd te worden en wanneer ik zou weten, dat ik morgen zou sterven, dan zou ik zeggen: ik vind het heel jammer, maar het is goed geweest, zoals het geweest is.”
― Etty Hillesum, Etty: de nagelaten geschriften van Etty Hillesum 1941-1943

“It was a movie about American bombers in World War II and the gallant men who flew them. Seen backwards by Billy, the story went like this: American planes, full of holes and wounded men and corpses took off backwards from an airfield in England. Over France, a few German fighter planes flew at them backwards, sucked bullets and shell fragments from some of the planes and crewmen. They did the same for wrecked American bombers on the ground, and those planes flew up backwards to join the formation.

The formation flew backwards over a German city that was in flames. The bombers opened their bomb bay doors, exerted a miraculous magnetism which shrunk the fires, gathered them into cylindrical steel containers , and lifted the containers into the bellies of the planes. The containers were stored neatly in racks. The Germans below had miraculous devices of their own, which were long steel tubes. They used them to suck more fragments from the crewmen and planes. But there were still a few wounded Americans though and some of the bombers were in bad repair. Over France though, German fighters came up again, made everything and everybody as good as new.

When the bombers got back to their base, the steel cylinders were taken from the racks and shipped back to the United States of America, where factories were operating night and day, dismantling the cylinders, separating the dangerous contents into minerals. Touchingly, it was mainly women who did this work. The minerals were then shipped to specialists in remote areas. It was their business to put them into the ground, to hide them cleverly, so they would never hurt anybody ever again.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five