"Because whatever they touch-and they touch everything-they’ve debased.
This is the way it was until the final victory. Until the trimphant end.
Acquire, debase, debase, acquire.
Or I can put it differently if you like. To touch, debase and thereby acquire, or touch, acquire and thereby debase.
It’s been going on like this for centuries, on, on and on. This and only this, sometimes on the sly, sometimes rudely, sometimes gently, sometimes brutally, but it has been going on and on. Yet only in one way, like a rat attack from ambush. Becouse for this perfect victory, it was also essential that the other side, everything that’s excellent, great in some way and noble, should not engage in any kind of fight. There shouldn’t be any kind of struggle, just the sudden disappearance of one side, meaning the disappearance of the excellent, the great, the noble.
So that by now these winning winners who attack from ambush rule earth, and there isn’t a single tiny nook where one can hide something from them, because everything they can lay their hands on is theirs. Even things we think they can’t reach – but they do reach – are also theirs.
Because the heavens are already theirs and all our dreams.
Theirs is the moment, nature, infinite silence. Even immortality is theirs, you understand?
Everything, everything is lost forever."
Turin's Horse, Bela Tarr
