Mention392890
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| so:text | We were outside. The icy wind whipped my face. I was constantly biting my lips so that they wouldn't freeze. All around me, what appeared to be a dance of death. My head was reeling. I was walking through a cemetery. Among the stiffened corpses, there were logs of wood. Not a sound of distress, not a plaintive cry, nothing but mass agony and silence. Nobody asked anyone for help. One died because one had to. No point in making trouble. (en) |
| so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Elie_Wiesel |
| so:description | Night (1960) (en) |
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Triples where Mention392890 is the object (without rdf:type)
| qkg:Quotation371628 | qkg:hasMention |
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