The conspiracy of silence has diminished the horror of what our people faced,

The more power something has, the less the actual facts matter.

Anyway, it’s hardly a problem worth worrying about.

There was nothing in this world that was not a con, suddenly I understood this. Nothing really mattered, and nothing could be lost.

When the situation is hopeless, there's nothing to worry about.

There is nothing, at any time, in any circumstance, to worry over why this to me ?

I gave up caring about anything, and all the problems disappeared. And it was after that that I found out the truth. I learnt the truth last November — on the third of November, to be precise — and I remember every instant since.

Perhaps nothing was worth worrying about in a city where everything was constantly shifting and dissolving, and the only thing they could ever rely on was this moment in time, which was already half gone.

As you got older and time went on, you realized that the distinction between truth and fiction didn’t really matter because eventually everything disappeared into the soupy, amnesiac mess of history. Personal or political, it made no difference.

Once a decision was made, I didn't worry about it afterward...

When a thing ceases to be a subject of controversy, it ceases to be a subject of interest.

It is completely unimportant,” said Poirot. “That is why it is so interesting,” he added softly.

Somehow, irresistibly, the prime thing was: nothing mattered. Life in the end seemed a prank of such size you could only stand off at this end of the corridor to note its meaningless length and it's quite unnecessary height, a mountain built to such ridiculous immensities you were dwarfed in its shadow and mocking of its pomp.

Suddenly he didn’t care if the revolution were lost or won, only that it be over.