Last WordBy Nicholas S. Desai | Sunday, June 8, 2008 All Germans are liars. They lie, they lie, they lie. Women may show some discrimination about whom they sleep with, but they’ll marry anybody. Posterity will ne’er survey Fathers and teachers, I ask myself: ‘What is hell?’ And I answer thus: ‘The suffering of being no longer able to love.’ I can imagine that an ugly woman who looks in the mirror is convinced that it is her mirror image, and not she, that is ugly. Thus society sees the mirror image of its meanness and is stupid enough to believe that I am the mean fellow. If this is the world, I live somewhere else. Calculation and justice tell me that electricity and steam show more love for humanity than chastity and vegetarianism. The worst readers are those who proceed like plundering soldiers: the pick up a few things they can use, soil and confuse the rest, and blaspheme the whole. Women should be obscene and not heard. Man differs more from man, than man from beast.
Anyone who has stammered will know what agony it is, especially at school. It means you never take the lead in anything or do anything but try to efface yourself. I often wonder if I was shy because I stammered, or vice versa.
Everyone suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues. The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies, probably because they are generally the same people. The individual cannot think and communicate his thought, the governor and legislator cannot act effectively or frame his laws without words, and the solidity and validity of these words is in the care of the damned and despised litterati...when their very medium, the very essence of their work, the application of word to thing goes rotten, i.e. becomes slushy and inexact, or excessive or bloated, the whole machinery of social and of individual thought and order goes to pot. In history as in human life, regret does not bring back a lost moment and a thousand years will not recover something lost in a single hour. At the same moment he suddenly remembered being asked once before, at some point: ‘Why do you hate so-and-so so much?’ And he had replied then, in a fit of buffoonish impudence: ‘I’ll tell you why: he never did anything to me, it’s true, but I once played a most shameless nasty trick on him, and the moment I did it, I immediately hated him for it.’ |
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