After Midnight

A writer in the act of writing must fear neither his own words nor anything else in the world. A writer who is afraid is no true writer.

Perhaps the two of them wouldn’t love each other so much if they were allowed to. However, there’s nothing more idiotic than wondering why people love each other when they are in love.

You never think you're good enough for the person you're in love with, anyway.

When there are two of you, you can laugh at a good many things which would make you cry on your own.

It always used to be so cosy when two girls went to the Ladies together. You powdered your noses, and exchanged rapid but important information about men and love. And you combed your hair, and the pair of you wondered whether to let the men you were with take you home, and if they'd get above themselves, and want to kiss when you didn't. Or if you did, you'd be terribly worried the man might not think you pretty enough. You exchanged excited advice in the Ladies. It was often silly advice, but still, conversations in the Ladies were fun, and interesting.

Perhaps the two of them wouldn't love each other so much if they were allowed to. However, there's nothing more idiotic than wondering why people love each other when they are in love.

Still, what does a girl care about the law when she wants a man?

When I look in the mirror before I go to bed at night, I sometimes do think I look very pretty. I like my skin, because it's so smooth and white. And my eyes seem large and grey and mysterious, and I don't believe there can be a film star in the world with such long, black lashes.[***]Still, it's a shame if someone's so often at her prettiest when she's alone. Or perhaps I'm only imagining it. At any rate, when I'm with Gerti I feel small and pale and peaky. Even my hair doesn't shine. It's a kind of dull blonde colour.

And more and more people keep coming in. This Gestapo room seems to be a positive place of pilgrimage. Mothers are informing on their daughters-in-law, daughters on their fathers-in-law, brothers on their sisters, sisters on their brothers, friends on their friends, drinking companions on their drinking companions, neighbours on their neighbours. And the typewriters go clatter, clatter, clatter, all the statements are taken down, all the informers are treated well and kindly. Now and then mothers whose sons have disappeared turn up, wives whose husbands have disappeared, sisters whose brothers have disappeared, children whose parents have disappeared, friends whose friends have disappeared. People making these inquiries are not so well and kindly treated as the informers.…

But Godenheimer’s had the best and cheapest silver foxes, and buttered Frau Breitwehr up, and called her “Madam” every other sentence. So she bought the silver fox fur. When she wears it, they look like a rich fur taking a poor woman out for a walk.

Herr Kulmbach had been saying the Führer had united the whole German nation. Which is true enough, it’s just that the people making up the whole German nation don’t get on with each other. But that doesn’t make any difference to political unity, I suppose.

I feel tired. Today was so eventful, and such a strain. Life generally is, these days. I don’t want to do any more thinking. In fact I can’t do any more thinking. My brain’s all full of spots of light and darkness, circling in confusion.

Ich habe die Menschen geliebt, länger als ein Jahrzehnt habe ich mir die Finger wundgeschrieben und den Kopf leergedacht, um sie vor dem Wahnsinn der hereinbrechenden Barbarei zu warnen. Eine Maus, die durch Piepsen eine Lawine aufhalten will. Die Lawine ist gekommen und hat alles begraben, die Maus hat ausgepiepst. (...) Ich war ein geistreicher und witziger Journalist. Man kann weder hier noch im Ausland ein geistreicher und witziger Journalist sein, wenn einem ewig die Schreie aus den deutschen Konzentrationslagern in den Ohren gellen. Zu viel an Grausamkeit ist geschehen. Ein böser Tag der Rache wird kommen, und die Rache wird nicht göttlich, sondern noch grausamer, noch menschlicher, noch unmenschlicher sein. Und auf die grausame Rache, die ich gleichzeitig wünsche und nicht wünsche, wird wieder eine grausame Rache folgen müssen - was jetzt in Deutschland begann, scheint hoffnungslos ohne Ende. Ein bluttriefendes Riesenrad, dreht Deutschland sich um sich selbst, weiter, immer weiter durch die nächsten Jahrzehnte - beinahe gleichgültig, welche Stelle des Rades gerade oben, welche unten ist.

In der Luft zitterte noch Schreien, man hörte es nicht mehr, man sah es nur noch. Wir sahen und fühlten es alle und waren für eine Sekunde vereint in Trauer und Angst. Denn es war getötet worden, und wir sind dabei gewesen.