Status Updates From Lenz oder die Freiheit: Ste...

He pushed the whore away and drank it down. The mustachioed soldier nudged the whore; the two of them laughed at him. The laughter infuriated him for no particular reason; he jumped up, jarring table and drinks and spilling a beer on the lap of the whore, who swore at him, threw her arms about the mustachioed soldier and cried, “Hit him, why don’t you!’ Fidel Frei protested, “No fights tonight!’ “Why not?’

"... The red-bearded man spread his arms. “Now let me ask you folks who often enough have hardly a crust of bread to bite: Do you work all day in the sweat of your brow to pay that sort of money to a gang of crowned and sceptred bloodsuckers so they can splurge it on their whores and their champagne, and on manoeuvres for their soldiers to learn the better to shoot down the poor, unhappy, starving people?’ ..."

"... ‘Ah, Mademoiselle,’ he said, ‘you wish to see me, yes?’ He shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t have come. I know what you want. You want to complain about handcuffing men so that the blood squirts and the bone crunches. Why, Mademoiselle, that’s nothing! You should see them when we bend back their arms and tie their wrists to their ankles and turn them into human hoops.’..."

" War is a change - change of locale, change of people, everyday a new kind of dirt, a new kind of stupidity, with a very occasional bit of human greatness thrown in to show you that all is not lost." - Page 13.