No Matter. The Dead Bird Does Not

War, Which Used To Be Cruel And Magnificent Has Now Become Cruel And Squalid.

You See These Dictators On Their Pedestals, Surrounded By The Bayonets Of Their Soldiers And The Truncheons Of Their Police ... Yet In Their Hearts There Is Unspoken Fear. They Are Afraid Of Words And Thoughts: Words Spoken Abroad, Thoughts Stirring At Home -- All The More Powerful Because Forbidden -- Terrify Them. A Little Mouse Of Thought Appears In The Room, And Even The Mightiest Potentates Are Thrown Into Panic.

Now At Last The Slowly Gathered, Long-pent-up Fury Of The Storm Broke Upon Us. Four Or Five Millions Of Men Met Each Other In The First Shock Of The Most Merciless Of All The Wars Of Which Record Has Been Kept.

The Game Of Life Does Not Proceed Like A Mathematical Calculation On The Principle That Two And Two Make Four. Sometimes They Make Five, Or Minus Four, And Sometimes The Blackboard Topples Over In The Middle Of The Sum And The Pedagogue Is Left With A Black Eye.

If Hitler Invaded Hell, I'd Find Something Nice To Say About The Devil Himself.