Fransiz oyun yazari Jean Anouilh’nin olum yildonumu (3 Ekim 1987)
“Kil gomleklerin, oruclarin, geceleri buz gibi taslar ustunde, icimizdeki zavalli hayvandan tiksine tiksine uykulari bolup sana dogru gelme cabalarinin zayif kisilerin buldugu onlemlerden baska birsey olabilecegini sanmam. Simdi bana oyle geliyor ki, gucluluk ve luks icinde, hatta sehvet icinde bile, seninle konusmama hic ara vermeyecegim. Sen zenginin ve mutlunun da tanrisisin. Senin derin adaletin de burada. Herseye dogustan sahip olanlara yuz cevirmedin. Kolayligin tuzaginda yapayalniz birakmadin onlari. Yolunu sasirmis koyunlarin onlardir belki de. Yoksullar ve sakatlar baslangicta sok daha ustun bir durumdadir. Seninle dolup tasarlar. Buyuk bir guvenle sariliverirler sana, duskunlukleri de bunun bedelidir. Ama, bazi bazi, buyuk yargi gununde, onlarin magrur baslarini zenginlerinkinden de fazla egilecegini tasarladigim oluyor. Cunku senin duzeninde, bizim yanlis olarak ‘adalet’ dedigimiz sey gizli ve derindir ve sen onlarin icini de krallarinki kadar ozenle incelersin. Ve bizim gozlerimizi kamastiran, ama senin icin goze bile carpmayan farklar altinda; tac ya da kabuk altinda sen ayni gururu, ayni ovungenligi, ayni kendinden hosnut cabayi bulursun.” Becket Ya Da Tanrinin Onuru
“Their hair shirts, their fasting, their bells in the small hours summoning one to meet you, on the icy paving stones, in the sick misery of the poor ill?treated human animal—I cannot believe that all these are anything but safeguards for the weak. In power and in luxury, and even in the pleasures of the flesh, I shall not cease to speak to You, I feel this now. You are the God of the rich man and the happy man too, Lord, and therein lies Your profound justice. You do not turn away Your eyes from the man who was given everything from birth. You have not abandoned him, alone in his ensnaring facility. And he may be Your true lost sheep. For Your scheme of things, which we mistakenly call justice, is secret and profound and You plumb the hidden depths of poor men’s puny frames as carefully as those of Kings. And beneath those outward differences, which blind us, but which to You are barely noticeable; beneath the diadem or the grime, You discern the same pride, the same vanity, the same petty, complacent preoccupation with oneself.”
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