I have been searched many times in my life, but no one has displayed such mastery in that art as the English. They forced me to take off my boots and carried them off somewhere; they examined all the seams on my jacket and my pants; they took away my notebook for inspection. And yet the Englishman who did all this perpetually wore a kindly smile—one could not even get angry at him.
In London, we were told that the date when our journey will continue is unknown: it is a military secret. Everything here has been calmer than in Paris, maybe because the war is farther away, or maybe because Englishmen aren’t fond of being nervous. To me, the city seemed beautiful, majestic, and gloomy. I thought, “Here, they would put Modigliani in an insane asylum…”
It was a nice, cool day. I took a long walk. I gave Alexis a history lesson. During the day we worked in the same place as yesterday. We cut down another two fir trees. A light rain fell for a while. After tea I read until dinner time.
I saw anarchists marching along Nevsky Prospect with a banner that read “Death to the Bourgeoisie”. From my study, these marching anarchists seem like rabble, imbeciles, pitiful two-legged animals; but when I had a look at their faces, something primordial rose before me. Yes, they were slaves, with their sunken cheeks and eyes, with the eternal sense of injury, their eternal anger and their rebellion. See more
Where you are, you imagine that we are living in a kingdom of freedom, but in actual fact, it is a kingdom of nonsense without freedom, or at any rate, without any effective sense of freedom. My dear friend, it is very bad here and very bleak, and Akitsa and I envy you more than ever, for being too far away to see this nightmare in its entirety. See more
The postal and telegraph services do not work. I am afraid that in spite of all the strength leant in support of the offence, our useless soldiers have been stopped.