It was raining and I walked under my umbrella, wondering what was the most important of all things. The most important thing of all is to bury. Killing doesn’t matter, it will happen sometimes, but to bury is essential. As soon as things are covered up and nothing is to be seen, all is well. What would it be like if the four or five million who have now been killed had been left unburied? What a stench there would be, and how many torn uniforms! + 

Despair, and no way to express it. Like a fool I can’t say what’s in my heart. And how long my legs have grown! I can feel how long they are as I walk. Am I going mad? + 