beauty hurts now: it's all in the details

"On the way home I went behind the black ruins where Professor K. used to live, and broke into his abandoned garden, where I picked several crocuses and tore off a few lilac branches.  Took some to Frau Golz, who used to live in my old apartment building. We sat across from each other at the copper table and talked. Or rather, we shouted above the gunfire that had just resumed.  Frau Golz, her voice breaking:  'What flowers, what lovely flowers.'  The tears were running down her face.  I felt terrible as well. Beauty hurts now. We're so full of death."

— A Woman in Berlin: Eight Weeks in a Conquered City/A Diary, by Anonymous