The wickedness of men is that their power breeds stupidity and blindness.
Forgive us our trespasses," says Margarethe, "and get out of our way.
When the times are a crucible, when the air is full of crisis, those who are the most themselves are the victims.
No, she wasn't losing language. She was choking on it.
Just my luck, if I believed in luck. I only believe in the opposite of luck, whatever that is.
Begging your pardon, sir....One population can't make peace with another by force.