All my home is nothing but sadness. Life is a
prison of desolation and aborted dreams, it is nothing but
a slow progress to my place beneath the soil, it
is a plot by God to disenchant us with the
flesh, it is nothing but a brief flame in a
bowl of oil between one darkness and another one that
ends it. I sit here and remember former times. I
remember music in the night, and I know that all
my joys have been pulled out of my mouth like
teeth. I shall be hungry and thirsty and longing forever.
Paraphrases from the novel Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières.