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Quote by Elias Canetti

“The touch to which one resigns oneself because all resistance appears hopeless – and particularly so as regards the future – has, in our society, become the arrest. The feel of the hand of authority on his shoulder is usually enough to make a man give himself up without having to be actually seized. He cowers and goes quietly.”

Quote by Elias Canetti

Work

Crowds and Power

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Author

Elias Canetti

Elias Canetti, born on July 25, 1905 and died on August 14, 1994, was a renowned novelist from Bulgaria. His works are known for their unique narrative style and profound insights into human nature. more

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“Go where?” Furi looked between them. “I can answer your questions right here.” “You could if we were the ones with the questions,” Metallica spoke up. “Our Sergeant and First Officer will be questioning you down at the precinct.” “So you’re the errand boys.” “And you’re the porn boy,” Metallica quipped back smoothly. “Now that we got job titles out of the way, move it, unless there’s some reason you don’t want to come.”

“Go where?” Furi looked between them. “I can answer your questions right here.” “You could if we were the ones with the questions,” Metallica spoke up. “Our Sergeant and First Officer will be questioning you down at the precinct.” “So you’re the errand boys.” “And you’re the porn boy,” Metallica quipped back smoothly. “Now that we got job titles out of the way, move it, unless there’s some reason you don’t want to come.” Furi wanted to flip them both off, but he followed them toward the parking lot. He was sort of glad they weren’t the ones questioning him, because he didn’t like their attitudes. Metallica opened the back door to a dark Suburban and told him to get in. Furi climbed in and put his seat belt on, just wanting to get this over with and get back before midnight. Furi found himself wondering what precinct Syn was in and if he should tell him soon about his second job. He didn’t want him finding out through the grapevine or hotline. Whatever.”

“I don’t make to-do lists, but if I did, today’s would have gone something like this: 1. get drunk, 2. get laid, 3. go surfing (not necessarily in that order.) Noticeably absent from the list: get arrested. And yet here I am, spending my eighteenth birthday with my back against the wall of the Colonel’s hunting cabin, two FBI agents prowling the dark with their guns drawn, both trying to get me to confess to the murder of my friend Preston DeWitt.”