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The Odds of Loving Grover Cleveland

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Rebekah Crane

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“All through the crowd were men in uniform, sailors from the great fleet anchored in the Hudson, soldiers with divisional insignia from Massachusetts to California, wanting fearfully to be noticed, and finding the great city thoroughly fed up with soldiers unless they were nicely massed into pretty formations and uncomfortable under the weight of a pack and rifle. Through this medley Dean and Gordon wandered; the former interested, made alert by the display of humanity at its frothiest and gaudiest; the latter reminded of how often he had been one of the crown, tired, casually fed, overworked, and dissipated. To Dean the struggle was significant, young, cheerful; to Gordon it was dismal, meaningless, endless.”

SoldiersSomberWar TimeClass Division
Book:May Day
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“Roughly halfway across the frozen river, the column of prisoners was halted by a massive snowdrift blocking their path. It proved too dense to break through in a single charge. “Why are you standing there staring? Move! Help the men in front!” a guard barked. The prisoners crowded forward and began clearing the obstacle together, clawing and kicking at the packed snow with desperate urgency. In their haste, they failed to consider that the ice had not yet thickened sufficiently after the previous night’s freeze. Under the concentrated weight of so many bodies in one place, the thin crust of ice suddenly gave way. The entire vanguard plunged into the freezing water. Those following behind recoiled in terror and collided with the prisoners at the rear. As they fell, the ice shattered beneath them as well, and they too were swallowed by the treacherous water. The more fortunate inmates, farther from the gaping hole in the ice, scattered in panic. Frightened guards fired warning shots into the air, shouting frantically to restore order. An instant later, the icy slurry struck Peter’s body like a thousand knives. Screams, splashing water, cracking ice, and frantic bodies thrashing in the racing current merged into a single nightmare of chaos. Several of the men who had fallen into the river could not swim. One was quickly seized by the current and dragged beneath the ice. Others, stricken by panic, clutched at whoever was near them. Peter found himself locked in the iron grip of a terrified Turkmen prisoner who had never in his life seen a body of water large enough to swim in. Together, they began to sink beneath the ice. — Volodymyr Shablia, Stone. Book Three Context note: Set in 1941 during the chaotic early months of World War II, this scene depicts the forced transfer of prisoners within the Soviet Gulag system. As Nazi Germany invaded the USSR, thousands of inmates were marched or transported across vast distances under brutal conditions. Many perished not in battle, but during these desperate evacuations—victims of cold, exhaustion, panic, and the indifference of a repressive state.”

SurvivalHistorical FictionCold WeatherPrisonersGulagWar TimeSoviet HistoryPolitical RepressionLabor CampExtreme Conditions
Book:Камінь. Біографічний роман. Книга третя. Несправджені сподівання.: Все буде Голодомор.
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“Before you look for dirt in people, look for treasure.”

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Author:Matshona Dhliwayo
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“Please Call Me By My True Names Don’t say that I will depart tomorrow— even today I am still arriving. Look deeply: every second I am arriving to be a bud on a Spring branch, to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings, learning to sing in my new nest, to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone. I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, to fear and to hope. The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that is alive. I am a mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river. And I am the bird that swoops down to swallow the mayfly. I am a frog swimming happily in the clear water of a pond. And I am the grass-snake that silently feeds itself on the frog. I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, my legs as thin as bamboo sticks. And I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda. I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat, who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate. And I am also the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving. I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my hands. And I am the man who has to pay his “debt of blood” to my people dying slowly in a forced-labor camp. My joy is like Spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth. My pain is like a river of tears, so vast it fills the four oceans. Please call me by my true names, so I can hear all my cries and laughter at once, so I can see that my joy and pain are one. Please call me by my true names, so I can wake up and the door of my heart could be left open, the door of compassion.”

InspirationalTruthBuddhismKarmaLove EveryoneDharma Teaching
Author:Thich Nhat Hanh
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