All fallacies are possible when one speculates on morsels of truth.

But Earth only bears one single sort of inhabitant.
It is not enough to put something on the end of a stick in public places, to shake it on the tops of buildings and in the faces of public assemblies, and say, "It is decided that this is the loftiest of all symbols; it is decided that he who will not bend the knee before it shall be accursed." It is the duty of human intelligence to examine if that symbolism is not fetish-worship.
As for me, I remember it was said that logic has terrible chains and that all hold together--the throne, the altar, the sword and the flag.
And I have read, in the unchaining and the chaining-up of war, that these are the instruments of the cult of human sacrifices.
Marie has sat down again, and I strolled away a little, musing.
I recall the silhouette of Adjutant Marcassin, and him whom I quoted a moment ago--the sincere hero, barren and dogmatic, with his furious faith.

I seem to be asking him, "Do you believe in beauty, in progress ?" He does not know, so he replies, "No! I only believe in the glory of the French name!" "Do you believe in respect for life, in the dignity of labor, in the holiness of happiness ?" "No." "Do you believe in truth, in justice ?" "No, I only believe in the glory of the French name." The idea of motherland--I have never dared to look it in the face.

I stand still in my walk and in my meditation.

What, that also?
But my reason is as honest as my heart, and keeps me going forward.