Атлант расправил плечи
The Exploiters and the Exploited
"
Itwaspastmidnight,when,stillsittingathisdesk,bentoverblueprintsofthebridgefortheJohnGaltLine,hestoppedhisworkabruptly,becauseemotionreachedhiminasuddenstab,nottobeescapedanylonger,asifacurtainofanesthesiahadbroken,Heslumpeddown,halfway,stillholdingontosomeshredofresistance,andsat,hischestpressedtotheedgeofthedesktostophim,hisheadhangingdown,asiftheonlyachievementstillpossibletohimwasnottolethisheaddropdownonthedesk.Hesatthatwayforafewmoments,consciousofnothingbutpain,ascreamingpainwithoutcontentorlimit—hesat,notknowingwhetheritwasinhismindorhisbody,reducedtotheterribleuglinessofpainthatstoppedthought.
Inafewmoments,itwasover.Heraisedhisheadandsatupstraight,quietly,leaningbackagainsthischair.Nowhesawthatinpostponingthismomentforhours,hehadnotbeenguiltyofevasion:hehadnotthoughtofit,becausetherewasnothingtothink.
Thought—hetoldhimselfquietly—isaweapononeusesinordertoact.Noactionwaspossible.Thoughtisthetoolbywhichonemakesachoice.Nochoicewaslefttohim.Thoughtsetsone’spurposeandthewaytoreachit.Inthematterofhislifebeingtornpiecebypieceoutofhim,hewastohavenovoice,nopurpose,noway,nodefense.
Hethoughtofthisinastonishment.
