There was no room in this nation for Zelenyi, a
man who would not bend, who would not swallow lies,
who would not act the parrot in a room of
imbeciles. There was no room at all for such a
fool. Back then, the poor imbeciles in government, in secret-police
chambers and other such game rooms of stunted, cruel oppressors,
what can these poor imbeciles do when such a fool
walks free? They consult secret manuals and hold secret meetings.
They try to be cruel, for they have not the
imagination to do anything else. They gawk. The fumble clumsily.
Paraphrases from the novel Prague by Arthur Phillips.