Silly Europeans.
"But, apart from killing people, you could die yourself. You could get killed in one of these futile wars."
"Yes, and I could live on, like a battery hen, in one of these futile cities. Filling in futile forms, paying futile taxes to enable futile politicians and state managers to fritter it away on electorally useful white elephants. I could earn a futile salary in a futile office and commute futilely on a train, morning and evening, until a futile retirement. I prefer to do it my way, live my way and die my way.
When I go, I'll go my way. I'd prefer to go with a bullet in my chest and blood in my mouth and a gun in my hand; with defiance in my heart and shouting, ‘Sod the lot of you,' than to flicker out in a damp basement with a mouth full of cardboard."
