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“You must train harder than the enemy who is trying to kill you. You will get all the rest you need in the grave.”
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“They died out there, in countless numbers, not for government officials in Berlin, but for their old countries, gilded by the centuries, and for their common fatherland, Europe, the Europe of Virgil and Ronsard, the Europe of Erasmus and Nietzsche, of Raphael and Dürer, the Europe of St. Ignatius and St. Theresa, the Europe of Frederick the Great and Napoleon Bonaparte.”
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941–1945
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941–1945
“A country cannot live in disorder, incompetence, irresponsibility, uncertainty, and corruption.”
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941–1945
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941–1945
“For hate dies, suffocated to death by its own stupidity and mediocrity. But grandeur is eternal.”
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941-1945
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941-1945
“We can gather all the Conferences of the world, gather by herds Heads of State, economic experts and champions of all techniques. They will weigh. They will decree.
But, basically, they will fail because they will miss the point.
The disease of the century is not in the body.
The body is sick because the soul is sick.
It was she who needed to be healed and revitalized.
The real, the big revolution to do is there.
Spiritual revolution
Or bankruptcy of the century.
The salvation of the world is in the will of the souls who believe.”
― Almas ardiendo: notas de paz, de guerra y de exilio
But, basically, they will fail because they will miss the point.
The disease of the century is not in the body.
The body is sick because the soul is sick.
It was she who needed to be healed and revitalized.
The real, the big revolution to do is there.
Spiritual revolution
Or bankruptcy of the century.
The salvation of the world is in the will of the souls who believe.”
― Almas ardiendo: notas de paz, de guerra y de exilio
“Britain and France had made it a world war after Hitler invaded Poland. When Stalin did the same thing fifteen days later, no one in the Allied chancelleries took the risk of reacting.”
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941–1945
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941–1945
“I sometimes made huge mistakes. But what actually is a mistake in politics? And when I look back, I have only one sentiment: an enormous regret. Regret that we did not succeed, that we were not able to create this European world which would be the master of the universe for all time, which made the white race the first race, with the great mastery of the spirit.
And when we see what there is on the other side, what 30 years of the others’ victory has given, this anarchy in the world, this rout of the white world, this desertion throughout the universe; when we see in our own countries the decay of morals, the fall of the fatherland, the fall of the family, the fall of social order; when we see this appetite for material goods which has replaced the great flame of the ideal which animated us, well then, truly, between the two we chose the right side. The small, miserable Europe of today, of this impoverished Common Market, cannot give happiness to men. Consumer society poisons humanity rather than elevating it.
So, for our part, we dreamed of something great, and we have only one desire, that this spirit be reborn. And with all my might, up to the last moment of my existence, I will fight for this. So that what was our struggle and our martyrdom, will one day be the resurrection.”
―
And when we see what there is on the other side, what 30 years of the others’ victory has given, this anarchy in the world, this rout of the white world, this desertion throughout the universe; when we see in our own countries the decay of morals, the fall of the fatherland, the fall of the family, the fall of social order; when we see this appetite for material goods which has replaced the great flame of the ideal which animated us, well then, truly, between the two we chose the right side. The small, miserable Europe of today, of this impoverished Common Market, cannot give happiness to men. Consumer society poisons humanity rather than elevating it.
So, for our part, we dreamed of something great, and we have only one desire, that this spirit be reborn. And with all my might, up to the last moment of my existence, I will fight for this. So that what was our struggle and our martyrdom, will one day be the resurrection.”
―
“Four years later, the comparison worked in the opposite direction: after having looted the watches, the jewelry, the clothes from all of Eastern Europe, the Soviet soldier returned grumbling to the USSR, astonished at the comfort of the non-Communist countries and disgusted with his “paradise” of wooden spoons, tattered dresses, and muddy excrement stretching around his house-barracks.”
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941–1945
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941–1945
“WE MUST, all of us, be prepared for the most terrible. Is not death, in the midst of humiliation, a way to give oneself even more?
Sacrifice admits of neither calculation nor reserve. If I had lied like the rest where would I have landed?
Yet, I believe even so, more than ever, only the idealists can change the world.
The soul that remains is the soul.”
―
Sacrifice admits of neither calculation nor reserve. If I had lied like the rest where would I have landed?
Yet, I believe even so, more than ever, only the idealists can change the world.
The soul that remains is the soul.”
―
“In the human desert, where there are so many lambs, be lions!”
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“At Dniepropetrovsk the Stalin regime had made great efforts in construction. We were at first impressed as we approached the suburbs of the city, where we saw outlined the large masonry blocks of the proletarian housing erected by the Soviets. Their lines were modern. The buildings were huge, and there were many of them. Undeniably, the Communist system had done something for the people. If the misery of the peasants was great, at least the worker seemed to have benefited from the new times. Still, it was necessary to visit and examine the buildings. We lived for six months in the Donets coal basin. We had plenty of time to test the conclusions that we had reached at the time of our entrance into Dniepropetrovsk. The buildings, so impressive from a distance, were just a gigantic hoax, intended to fool sightseers shepherded by Intourist [Soviet tourism agency] and the viewers of documentary films. Approaching those housing blocks you were sickened by the stench of mud and excrement that rose from the quagmires surrounding each of the buildings. Around them were neither sidewalks nor gravel nor paving stones. The Russian mud was everywhere, and everywhere the walls peeled and crumbled. The quality of the construction materials was of the lowest order. All the balconies had come loose, and already the cement stairways were worn and grooved, although the buildings were only a few years old.”
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941–1945
― The Eastern Front: Memoirs of a Waffen SS Volunteer, 1941–1945
“Solo el alma cuenta y debe dominar a todo lo demás. Corta o larga, la vida solo vale la pena si no tenemos que avergonzarnos de ella en el momento en que hay que devolverla”
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“En la vida todo es cuestión de fe y tenacidad”
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―
“No great work is accomplished in selfishness and pride.
Obeying is a joy because it is a form of gift, of clairvoyant gift.
Obeying is fruitful, multiplying the results ...
Human society is not formed by a cloud of fierce and fanciful mosquitoes rushing in the wind according to personal interest.
A poor people where everyone intelligently recognizes limits and communal obligations obeys and works as a team — that is a people with life.
Obedience is the highest form of the use of freedom.
To command, one must first command oneself.”
― The Burning Souls
Obeying is a joy because it is a form of gift, of clairvoyant gift.
Obeying is fruitful, multiplying the results ...
Human society is not formed by a cloud of fierce and fanciful mosquitoes rushing in the wind according to personal interest.
A poor people where everyone intelligently recognizes limits and communal obligations obeys and works as a team — that is a people with life.
Obedience is the highest form of the use of freedom.
To command, one must first command oneself.”
― The Burning Souls
“L’agonie de notre temps gît là.
Le siècle ne s’effondre pas faute de soutien matériel. Jamais l’univers ne fut si riche, comblé de tant de confort, aidé par une industrialisation à ce point productrice.
Jamais il n’y eut tant de ressources ni de biens offerts.
C’est le cœur de l’homme, et lui seul, qui est en état de faillite.
C’est faute d’aimer, c’est faute de croire et de se donner, que le monde s’accable lui-même des coups qui l’assassinent.
Le siècle a voulu n’être plus que le siècle des appétits. Son orgueil l’a perdu. Il a cru aux machines, aux stocks, aux lingots, sur lesquels il régnerait en maître. Il a cru, tout autant, à la victoire des passions charnelles projetées au delà de toutes les limites, à la libération des formes les plus diverses des jouissances, sans cesse multipliées, toujours plus avilies et plus avilissantes, dotées d’une « technique » qui n’est, en somme, généralement, qu’une accumulation, sans grande imagination, d’assez pauvres vices, d’êtres vidés.”
― Almas ardiendo: notas de paz, de guerra y de exilio
Le siècle ne s’effondre pas faute de soutien matériel. Jamais l’univers ne fut si riche, comblé de tant de confort, aidé par une industrialisation à ce point productrice.
Jamais il n’y eut tant de ressources ni de biens offerts.
C’est le cœur de l’homme, et lui seul, qui est en état de faillite.
C’est faute d’aimer, c’est faute de croire et de se donner, que le monde s’accable lui-même des coups qui l’assassinent.
Le siècle a voulu n’être plus que le siècle des appétits. Son orgueil l’a perdu. Il a cru aux machines, aux stocks, aux lingots, sur lesquels il régnerait en maître. Il a cru, tout autant, à la victoire des passions charnelles projetées au delà de toutes les limites, à la libération des formes les plus diverses des jouissances, sans cesse multipliées, toujours plus avilies et plus avilissantes, dotées d’une « technique » qui n’est, en somme, généralement, qu’une accumulation, sans grande imagination, d’assez pauvres vices, d’êtres vidés.”
― Almas ardiendo: notas de paz, de guerra y de exilio
“Love? Why? Why love?
Human beings have barricaded themselves behind selfishness and pleasure.
Virtue has abandoned its natural song.
We laugh at our old rites.
Souls suffocate—perhaps they have already been liquidated,
their absence hidden behind the decorum of habit and convention.
Happiness has become, for man and woman,
a heap of fruit devoured in a hurry,
or bitten into—only to be discarded.
Damaged bodies.
Damaged souls.
Exhausted quickly by fleeting frenzy,
already looking for other, more exciting,
or more perverse fruits.
The air is heavy with moral and spiritual denial.
The lungs pull in vain for a breath of freshness—
like the sea spray thrown too far from the sands.
Man’s inner gardens have lost their color.
The birds no longer sing there.
Love itself is no longer given.
And besides, what is love?
The most beautiful word in the world—
reduced to a physical pastime,
instinctive, interchangeable.
The only happiness that consoles, that intoxicates,
is the happiness found in giving.
In selflessness.
The gift alone carries the flavor of eternity.
It returns to the lips of the soul
with an intangible sweetness.
Give—to have seen eyes that shine.
Give—to have been understood, touched, fulfilled.
Give—to have reached the secret fibers that weave the mysteries of sensibility.
Give—to unburden the heart,
to pour out the weight of needing to be loved.
Then the heart becomes light—
as light as pollen.
Its pleasure rises like birdsong in the night,
a burning voice lighting the darkness.
We pour forth with joy.
We have emptied this power of happiness—
which was never meant to be hoarded.
The earth cannot endlessly contain the life of its springs;
it must let them burst,
under crocuses and daffodils,
or in the crevices of green rock.
But today—
in a thousand withered wells,
the springs of life have ceased to flow.
The earth no longer pours out this gift which once swelled it.
She holds back her happiness.
She chokes.
This is the agony of our age.
The century does not fail for lack of material support.
Never before has the world been so rich,
so comfortable,
so mechanized.
And yet—it dies.
It is not wealth that is lacking.
It is not progress that is missing.
It is the heart of man—
and this alone—
which is bankrupt.
It is by a lack of love,
by a failure to believe and to give,
that the world has overwhelmed itself
with murderous blows.
This century wanted to be nothing more than
the century of appetites.
Its pride was wasted.
It believed in miracles—
not of the spirit,
but of stocks and ingots,
of wealth, of possession, of control.
It believed just as much in the liberation of carnal passions,
projected beyond all restraint—
diverse, multiplied,
more degraded, more degrading,
powered by technique—
which is, in the end, nothing
but an accumulation of impoverished vices
from emptied beings.
From his conquests—or more precisely, from his falls—
man acquired pleasures
that seemed supremely exciting at first,
but which were, in truth,
only poison,
only filth,
only falsehood.
And for this filth,
for this falsehood,
man and woman abandoned their dreams—
desecrated their bodies—
and lost their joy.
The puffs of pleasure from possession,
from flesh,
must vanish.
And when they do,
what remains is only a passion for taking,
seizing,
consuming,
driven by anger
and contempt for every obstacle—
even the stale, decaying orders that still stand
over their ransacked and rotten lives”
― The Burning Souls
Human beings have barricaded themselves behind selfishness and pleasure.
Virtue has abandoned its natural song.
We laugh at our old rites.
Souls suffocate—perhaps they have already been liquidated,
their absence hidden behind the decorum of habit and convention.
Happiness has become, for man and woman,
a heap of fruit devoured in a hurry,
or bitten into—only to be discarded.
Damaged bodies.
Damaged souls.
Exhausted quickly by fleeting frenzy,
already looking for other, more exciting,
or more perverse fruits.
The air is heavy with moral and spiritual denial.
The lungs pull in vain for a breath of freshness—
like the sea spray thrown too far from the sands.
Man’s inner gardens have lost their color.
The birds no longer sing there.
Love itself is no longer given.
And besides, what is love?
The most beautiful word in the world—
reduced to a physical pastime,
instinctive, interchangeable.
The only happiness that consoles, that intoxicates,
is the happiness found in giving.
In selflessness.
The gift alone carries the flavor of eternity.
It returns to the lips of the soul
with an intangible sweetness.
Give—to have seen eyes that shine.
Give—to have been understood, touched, fulfilled.
Give—to have reached the secret fibers that weave the mysteries of sensibility.
Give—to unburden the heart,
to pour out the weight of needing to be loved.
Then the heart becomes light—
as light as pollen.
Its pleasure rises like birdsong in the night,
a burning voice lighting the darkness.
We pour forth with joy.
We have emptied this power of happiness—
which was never meant to be hoarded.
The earth cannot endlessly contain the life of its springs;
it must let them burst,
under crocuses and daffodils,
or in the crevices of green rock.
But today—
in a thousand withered wells,
the springs of life have ceased to flow.
The earth no longer pours out this gift which once swelled it.
She holds back her happiness.
She chokes.
This is the agony of our age.
The century does not fail for lack of material support.
Never before has the world been so rich,
so comfortable,
so mechanized.
And yet—it dies.
It is not wealth that is lacking.
It is not progress that is missing.
It is the heart of man—
and this alone—
which is bankrupt.
It is by a lack of love,
by a failure to believe and to give,
that the world has overwhelmed itself
with murderous blows.
This century wanted to be nothing more than
the century of appetites.
Its pride was wasted.
It believed in miracles—
not of the spirit,
but of stocks and ingots,
of wealth, of possession, of control.
It believed just as much in the liberation of carnal passions,
projected beyond all restraint—
diverse, multiplied,
more degraded, more degrading,
powered by technique—
which is, in the end, nothing
but an accumulation of impoverished vices
from emptied beings.
From his conquests—or more precisely, from his falls—
man acquired pleasures
that seemed supremely exciting at first,
but which were, in truth,
only poison,
only filth,
only falsehood.
And for this filth,
for this falsehood,
man and woman abandoned their dreams—
desecrated their bodies—
and lost their joy.
The puffs of pleasure from possession,
from flesh,
must vanish.
And when they do,
what remains is only a passion for taking,
seizing,
consuming,
driven by anger
and contempt for every obstacle—
even the stale, decaying orders that still stand
over their ransacked and rotten lives”
― The Burning Souls
“Il est doux de rêver à un idéal et de le bâtir dans sa pensée.
Mais c’est encore, à dire le vrai, fort peu de chose.
Qu’est-ce qu’un idéal qui n’est qu’un jeu, ou mettons même un rêve très pur ?
Il faut le bâtir, après cela, dans l’existence.”
― Almas ardiendo: notas de paz, de guerra y de exilio
Mais c’est encore, à dire le vrai, fort peu de chose.
Qu’est-ce qu’un idéal qui n’est qu’un jeu, ou mettons même un rêve très pur ?
Il faut le bâtir, après cela, dans l’existence.”
― Almas ardiendo: notas de paz, de guerra y de exilio
“¡Que el destino nos escuentre siempre fuertes y dignos! Debemos amar la felicidad como amamos el canto fugitivo del viento, como amamos los colores del atardecer que se va a extinguir. Porque los vientos renacen y cantan de nuevo...”
―
―
“Mentir ha llegado a ser una forma de espíritu. El honor ha perdido todo sentido, el honor del juramento, el honor a servir, el honor de morir. Se ríen de quienes se aferran todavía a esos viejos ritos. La virtud ha perdido su dulce canto de fuente. Las sonrisas no son ya los sentimientos del corazón, sino suspiros, estafas o rictus. Las almas se asfixian, el aire es pesado, cargado de todos los renunciamientos espirituales”
―
―
“Solo saldremos de esta decadencia con una inmensa rectificación moral, volviendo a enseñar a los hombres a amar, a sacrificarse, a vivir, a luchar y a morir por un ideal superior”
―
―
“Lo único que importa es la fe, la confianza ardiente, la ausencia total de egoísmo e individualismo, la tensión de todo el ser hacia el servicio, por ingrato que sea, en cualquier lugar, de todos modos, una causa que va más allá del hombre, preguntándole todo, prometiéndole nada”
―
―
“La sociedad de consumo convirtió a la humanidad en una inmensa multitud materialista a la cual la simple idea de sacrificio le hacía temblar. Las fiestas, la televisión, la avidez de tenerlo todo, de poder pagar todo lo que se ve, de no someterse nunca a ninguna moral limitativa, de incluso hartarse de los ancianos (carga pesada) o de los niños (obstáculos), han enviado a la civilización occidental al declive”
―
―
“¡Qué el destino nos encuentre siempre fuertes y dignos! Debemos amar la felicidad como amamos el canto fugitivo del viento, como amamos los colores del atardecer que se va a extinguir. Porque los vientos renacen y cantan de nuevo...”
―
―
“The disease of the century is not in the body. The body is sick because the soul is sick.
This is what is essential, whatever it may take to cure.”
― The Burning Souls
This is what is essential, whatever it may take to cure.”
― The Burning Souls
“The money, the honours, the mess of bodies, the eagerness to seize an earthly happiness, which leaks between the fingers and always escapes, has made of the human herd a pitiful horde ruining itself, tearing itself apart to find a liberation which does not exist... The desire to be first, that is to say, the desire to trample upon. The desire for purely material power, that is to say the desire to suffocate and destroy the spiritual.”
― The Burning Souls
― The Burning Souls
“Solo los cerebros vacíos, o los corazones inconstantes, tiene miedo de quedar en silencio frente a sí mismos”
―
―
“En el combate, un hombre miedoso está perdido. El valor, más aún que exponer, se impone, porque la muerte también, con tal de que se la mire a la cara, se deja asustar”
―
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“Aunque se reúnan todas las conferencias del mundo y se agrupen los jefes de Estado y los expertos, nada podrán cambiar. La enfermedad no está en el cuerpo. El cuerpo está enfermo porque lo está el alma. Es el alma la que tiene que curarse y purificarse.
La verdaderamente grande y única revolución que está por hacerse es ésa: aun tan sólo las almas, llamadas por el amor del hombre y alimentadas por el amor de Dios podrá devolver al mundo él claro rostro y una mirada limpia a los ojos purificados por el agua serena de la entrega generosa. No hay opción: o revolución espiritual, o fracaso del siglo”
―
La verdaderamente grande y única revolución que está por hacerse es ésa: aun tan sólo las almas, llamadas por el amor del hombre y alimentadas por el amor de Dios podrá devolver al mundo él claro rostro y una mirada limpia a los ojos purificados por el agua serena de la entrega generosa. No hay opción: o revolución espiritual, o fracaso del siglo”
―
“La alegría es el fuego de los corazones indomables y ningún contratiempo puede apagar sus corazones ardientes”
―
―
“¡Cuánta gente, colmada de todo, se queja de continuo, lo encuentra todo mal y no acierta a gozar nunca de nada!
Debemos mirar siempre hacia los que tienen menos que nosotros y contentarnos, y gozar de lo que poseemos sin alimentar nuestro espíritu de quimeras”
―
Debemos mirar siempre hacia los que tienen menos que nosotros y contentarnos, y gozar de lo que poseemos sin alimentar nuestro espíritu de quimeras”
―
