O trees of life, O when are you wintering?We are not unified. We have no instinctslike those of migratory birds. Useless, and late,we force ourselves, suddenly, onto the wind,and fall down to an indifferent lake. We realise flowering and fading together. And somewhere lions still roam. Never knowing,as long as they have their splendour, of any weakness.
As Albert Camus wrote, the doctor’s role is as a witness – to witness authentically the reality of humanity, and to speak out against the horrors of political inaction. . . The only crime equaling inhumanity is the crime of indifference, silence, and forgetting.