Werner Pfennig grows up three hundred miles northeast of Paris in a place called Zollverein: a four-thousand-acre coalmining complex outside Essen, Germany. It’s steel country, anthracite country, a p...
There is only chance in this world, chance and physics. Anyway,
Трябва ли просто да вървиш след стадото като овца?
There is the humility of being a father to someone so powerful, as if he were only a narrow conduit for another, greater thing. That’s how it feels right now, he thinks, kneeling beside her, rinsing h...
There is the humility of being a father to someone so powerful, as if he were only a narrow conduit for another, greater think.
There must be some definite cause why, whenever snow begins to fall, its initial formation invariably displays the shape of a six-cornered starlet. For if it happens by chance, why do they not fall ju...
There was a man who used that transmitter you have. Who broadcast lessons about science. When I was a boy. I used to listen to them with my sister. That was the voice of my grandfather. You heard him?...
«Piensa en los obstáculos como en oportunidades,
There's always been a sliver of panic in him, deeply buried, when it comes to his daughter. A fear that he is no good as a father, that he is doing everything wrong. That he never quite understood the...
There, thinks Werner when he finds it again, there: a feeling like shutting your eyes and feeling your way down a mile-long thread until your fingernails find the tiny lump of a knot.
They can march for days without eating. They impregnate every schoolgirl they meet.
Gibbous.
From Volkheimer to Werner.
They lie on their stomachs and page through comics, feeling the pleasure of being outside of school, glancing at each other now and then as if curious to learn whether their friendship will continue t...
They look like scarecrows shipping west to be staked in some terrible garden.
They mean half-Jew. Keep your voice down.
[Time is] a glowing puddle you carry in your hands; you should spend all your energy protecting it. Fighting for it. Working hard not to spill one single drop.
This is a double cruelty: that everything else keeps living, that the spinning earth does not pause for even an instant in its trip around the sun.
Timber splinters, as though the rubble teeters on some final fulcrum. As though a single dragonfly could alight on it and trigger an avalanche that will bury them for good. Werner
You know the greatest lesson of history? It’s that history is whatever the victors say it is. That’s the lesson. Whoever wins, that’s who decides the history.
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