We know that a man can read Goethe or Rilke in the evening that he can play Bach and Schubert and go to his day's work at Auschwitz in the morning.
I knew however that the next morning after the fight I would have to get...
Why are we so full of restraint? Why do we not give in all directions? Is it fear of losing ourselves? Until we do lose ourselves there is no hope of finding ourselves.
