Journals ‘42:

“The elements that go to make up the way of life here are ignoble.  It must be the lack of dignity in the conditions of production that renders everything banal here, if anywhere, detachment is necessary but nobody respects it.  Eating, looking at a landscape, conversation, writing a book, reading a book, business, all these things have quite a different purpose here, one that does not smell too nice, and is not dignified or self-sufficient.”

“To write poetry, even topical poetry here amounts to withdrawing into an ivory tower.  It is like plying the art of the goldsmith.  There is something quaint, something oddball, something limited about it.  It is like putting a message in a bottle, the battle for smolensk is a battle for poetry too.”