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| Woolf's Bedroom at Monk's House |
The Germans were over this house last night and the night before
that. Here they are again. It is a queer
experience, lying in the dark and listening to the zoom of a hornet which may
at any moment sting you to death. It is a sound that interrupts cool and
consecutive thinking about peace. Yet it is a sound--far more than prayers and
anthems--that should compel one to think about peace. Unless we can think peace
into existence we---not this one body in this one bed but millions of bodies
yet to be born--will lie in the same darkness and hear the same death rattle overhead.
Let us think what we can do to create the only efficient air-raid shelter while
the guns on the hill go pop pop pop and the searchlights finger the clouds and
now and then, sometimes close at hand, sometimes far away, a bomb drops.
“Thoughts on Peace in an Air-Raid” (E6
242)
Pub. October 21, 1940 in The
New Republic
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