If even dying is to be made a social function, then, grant me the favor of sneaking out on tiptoe without disturbing the party.

Is life so wretched? Isn't it rather your hands which are too small, your vision which is muddled? You are the one who must grow up.

It is more noble to give yourself completely to one individual than to labor diligently for the salvation of the masses.

The big, shoe-thumping fellow continues as a dark thunderhead to threaten all unrepentant non-Communists with hail and thunder.