A Hunger Artist

“because I couldn’t find a food which I enjoyed. If had found that, believe me, I would not have made a spectacle of myself and would have eaten to my heart’s content, like you and everyone else.”

The beautiful signs became dirty and illegible. People tore them down, and no one thought of replacing them.

With such observers, he was very happily prepared to spend the entire night without sleeping.

Generally he couldn’t sleep at all, and he could always doze under any lighting and at any hour, even in an overcrowded, noisy auditorium

"because I couldn't find a food which I enjoyed. If had found that, believe me, I would not have made a spectacle of myself and would have eaten to my heart's content, like you and everyone else."

Those were his last words, but in his failing eyes there was the firm, if no longer proud, conviction that he was continuing to fast.

Because I had to fast. I can't do anything else,"

It was impossible to fight against this lack of understanding, against this world of misunderstanding.

It was impossible to fight against this lack of understanding, against this world of misunderstanding.

It was impossible to fight against this lack of understanding, against this world of misunderstanding.