It is that which is important--that they are thousands.

When thousands kill one, it means that the one has conquered.
That is true, Werner, my dear...." But this, too, became so clear to her that she did not feel like arguing further--Werner must understand it himself.

Perhaps her mind simply did not want to stop at one thought--just as a bird that soars with ease, which sees endless horizons, and to which all space, all the depth, all the joy of the soft and caressing azure are accessible.

The bell of the clock rang unceasingly, disturbing the deep silence.

And into this harmonious, remote, beautiful sound the thoughts of the people flowed, and also began to ring for her; and the smoothly gliding images turned into music.