Fuck that. Fuck that idea like the fucking captain of the Thai Fuck Team fucking at the fucking Tour de Fuck.
Ah, I believe Schacht. Only too willingly; that__ to say, I think what he says is absolutely true, for the world is incomprehensibly crass, tyrannical, moody, and cruel to sickly and sensitive people. Well, Schacht will stay here for the time being. We laughed at him a bit, when he arrived, that can__ be helped either, Schacht is young and after all can__ be allowed to think there are special degrees, advantages, methods, and considerations for him. He has now had his first disappointment, and I__ convinced that he__l have twenty disappointments, one after the other. Life with its savage laws is in any case for certain people a succession of discouragements and terrifying bad impressions. People like Schacht are born to feel and suffer a continuous sense of aversion. He would like to admit and welcome things, but he just can__. Hardness and lack of compassion strike him with tenfold force, he just feels them more acutely. Poor Schacht. He__ a child and he should be able to revel in melodies and bed himself in kind, soft, carefree things. For him there should be secret splashings and birdsong. Pale and delicate evening clouds should waft him away in the kingdom of Ah, What__ Happening to Me? His hands are made for light gestures, not for work. Before him breezes should blow, and behind him sweet, friendly voices should be whispering. His eyes should be allowed to remain blissfully closed, and Schacht should be allowed to go quietly to sleep again, after being wakened in the morning in the warm, sensuous cushions. For him there is, at root, no proper activity, for every activity is for him, the way he is, improper, unnatural, and unsuitable. Compared with Schacht I__ the trueblue rawboned laborer. Ah, he__l be crushed, and one day he__l die in a hospital. or he__l perish, ruined in body and soul, inside one of our modern prisons.
Jakob von Gunten
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Ah, I believe Schacht. Only too willingly; that__ to say, I think what he says is absolutely true, for the world is incomprehensibly crass, tyrannical, moody, and cruel to sickly and sensitive people. Well, Schacht will stay here for the time being. We laughed at him a bit, when he arrived, that can__ be helped either, Schacht is young and after all can__ be allowed to think there are special degrees, advantages, methods, and considerations for him. He has now had his first disappointment, and I__ convinced that he__l have twenty disappointments, one after the other. Life with its savage laws is in any case for certain people a succession of discouragements and terrifying bad impressions. People like Schacht are born to feel and suffer a continuous sense of aversion. He would like to admit and welcome things, but he just can__. Hardness and lack of compassion strike him with tenfold force, he just feels them more acutely. Poor Schacht. He__ a child and he should be able to revel in melodies and bed himself in kind, soft, carefree things. For him there should be secret splashings and birdsong. Pale and delicate evening clouds should waft him away in the kingdom of Ah, What__ Happening to Me? His hands are made for light gestures, not for work. Before him breezes should blow, and behind him sweet, friendly voices should be whispering. His eyes should be allowed to remain blissfully closed, and Schacht should be allowed to go quietly to sleep again, after being wakened in the morning in the warm, sensuous cushions. For him there is, at root, no proper activity, for every activity is for him, the way he is, improper, unnatural, and unsuitable. Compared with Schacht I__ the trueblue rawboned laborer. Ah, he__l be crushed, and one day he__l die in a hospital. or he__l perish, ruined in body and soul, inside one of our modern prisons.
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