残忍
April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.
The greatest cruelty is our casual blindness to the despair of others.
"The words we use are like the clothes we wear. They can make us look smart or silly, kind or cruel, strong or weak."
People are cruelest to those they love.
And America, too, is a delusion, the grandest one of all. The white race believes—believes with all its heart—that it is their right to take the land. To kill Indians. Make war. Enslave their brothers. This nation shouldn’t exist, if there is any justice in the world, for its foundations are murder, theft, and cruelty.