The seasons sang to him - like ageless hymns with whisperings he could feel, but not fully understand.
Bodie ThoeneYou *forgot*? I will beat you with a good stout stick!
Bodie ThoeneThis is me, God! Elisa. I once saw you in all the world. But the world is dark now, Lord. Full. Full of darkness. Close your eyes for a moment, God, and let me sing to you. Let me remember that you are here. Here in the notes. Smiling down as I play for you. Just this moment, God, let me sing to you. And maybe in the song, I will forget whether I am singing to you, or you are singing to me . . .
Bodie ThoeneWhat miralces can there be when Germany has sold her soul?
Bodie Thoene. . . he thought how easy it would be to simply kick his typewriter onto the floor and smash it to pieces among the wads of discarded paper that overflowed his waste basket.
Bodie ThoeneThis pursuit of Theo was not borne out of hatred for him as a man or a Jew. All of that was just an excuse - an excuse for lawless men to take what belonged to others. It seemed strange that those who served the Hitlers and the Himmlers and the Gorings believed constant lies. "The Jew is a misfortune." It was those little men in the service of greed who were the most violent, the most dedicated to the brutality of the racial policies. They murdered and terrorized for one reason only: because they could. They were the law of the lawlessness; the power of evil was their creed and their joy and their god!
Bodie ThoeneHe scowled at the typewriter, at the empty sheet of paper.
Bodie ThoeneHot tears rolled from Herschel's eyes and he wiped them away, afraid that they would drip through the boards and onto his father's unfeeling tormentors.
Bodie ThoeneThe Reich may tell you whom you may love and whom you must hate. Oh, yes, Thomas, the Reich can dictate the inward life of every man."
"Not the inward life." Thomas looked up sharply. "Only the outward show.
Elisa thought how empty the prayers sounded. The words rattled around in the ancient rafters and then returned to them like dead leaves falling from the trees. No life. No shade of hope. Only a cold wind that blew into their very souls.
Bodie ThoenePage 1 of 3.
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