"our present debates will appear as childish struggles in the eyes of posterity. Nothing exists any longer: authority of experience and age, birth or genius, talent or virtue, all is denied; a few individuals climb to the summit of the ruins, proclaim themselves giants and tumble down as pygmies.
Except for some twenty men who will survive and who were destined to carry the torch through the dark steppes into which we are entering, except for these few men, a generation which bore within itself an abundant spirit, acquired knowledge, seeds of success of every kind, has stifled them in an anxiety as unproductive as its pride is sterile.
Nameless multitudes stir about without knowing why, like the popular associations of the Middle Ages: famished flocks that recognize no shepherd, that run from plain to mountain and from mountain to plain, disdaining the experience of herdsmen hardened by wind and sun. In the life of the city all is transitory: religion and morality cease to be accepted, or each interprets them in his own way.
Among things of an inferior nature, even in power of conviction and existence, a reputation scarcely pulsates for an hour, a book grows old in a day, writers kill themselves to attract attention; another vanity: one does not even hear their last breath."
Chateaubriand

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