Bokelskere.no

And look where the country was, after forty years of idealism? A total mess! Maybe if they had all become bastards, the young men of his generation, the place would be like America by now!

Those who are born poor in this country are fated to die poor. There is no hope for us, and no need of pity." "I am not really moving forward, he thought. Every turn of the wheel undid him and slowed him down. Each time he cycled, he was working the wheel of life backwards, crushing muscle and fibre into the pulp from which they were made in his mother's womb; he was unmaking himself.