But sometimes I am moved by a great pity, as lofty as a dream.

Sometimes I feel like punishing men, at other times, like going down on my knees to them." The old doctor smiled sadly at this vehemence, then his smile vanished at the thought of the undeniable outrage.
"Unfortunately you are right.

With all the misery we have to suffer, we tear ourselves with our own hands besides--the war of the classes, the war of the nations, whether you look at us from afar or from above, we are barbarians and madmen." "Why, why," said the young doctor, who was getting excited, "why do we continue to be fools when we recognise our own folly ?" The old practitioner shrugged his shoulders, as he had a few moments before when they spoke of incurable diseases.
"The force of tradition, fanned by interested parties.

We are not free, we are attached to the past.

We study what has always been done, and do it over again--war and injustice.