Don't love for you want to love, love for you want happiness

The draft,” he shouts, “is white people sending black people to make war on yellow people in order to defend the land they stole from red people. The draft must end: not tomorrow, not next week, but today.

Can I be blamed for wanting a real body, to put my arms around? Without it I too am disembodied. I can listen to my own heartbeat against the bedsprings...but there’s something dead about it, something deserted.

Quien quema libros termina tarde o temprano por quemar hombres - Heinrich Heine

Written By Primo Levi

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