They say to me: Eat and drink! Be glad you have it!
But how can I eat and drink if
I snatch what I eat from the starving, and
My glass of water belongs to one dying of thirst?
And yet I eat and drink.[Man sagt mir: Iß und trink du! Sei froh, daß du hast!
Aber wie kann ich essen und trinken, wenn
Ich dem Hungernden entreiße, was ich esse, und
Mein Glas Wasser einem Verdursteten fehlt?
Und doch esse und trinke ich.]Bertolt Brecht (1898–1956) German poet, playwright, director, dramaturgist
Poem (1938 ca.), “To Those Born Later [A die Nachgeborenen],” sec. 1, Svendborger Gedichte (1939) [tr. Willet / Manheim / Fried]
(Source)
Also translated as "To Those Who Follow in Our Wake" and "To Later Generations." Writing not just about sustenance in a world of poverty, but on the use of essentials like food and water by totalitarian regimes to buy loyalty. Written while Brecht had left Germany for Denmark.
An audio recording of the poem by Brecht.
(Source (German)). Other translations:They tell me: eat and drink. Be glad to be among the haves!
But how can I eat and drink
When I take what I eat from the starving
And those who thirst do not have my glass of water?
And yet I eat and drink.
[tr. Horton (2008)]People tell me: Eat and drink! Be happy that you have!
But how can I eat and drink, if
What I eat, I take from the hungry, and if
My glass of water deprives the thirsty?
And yet, eat and drink I do.
[tr. Rienas (2009)]People tell me, Eat and drink! Be glad to have something!
But how can I eat and drink, if
I take what I eat from one who starves
And one dying of thirst needs my glass of water?
And still I eat and drink.
[tr. Renaud (2016)]
Quotations about:
starvation
Note not all quotations have been tagged, so Search may find additional quotes on this topic.
It occurred one evening to the boy Gavroche that he had had nothing to eat all day. Nor, for that matter, had he had anything the day before. It was becoming tiresome, so he resolved to go in search of supper.
[Un soir le petit Gavroche n’avait point mangé; il se souvint qu’il n’avait pas non plus dîné la veille; cela devenait fatigant. Il prit la résolution d’essayer de souper.]
Victor Hugo (1802–1885) French writer, journalist, human rights activist, politician
Les Misérables, Part 4 “Saint Denis,” Book 4 “Aid from Below May be Aid from Above,” ch. 2 (4.4.2) (1862) [tr. Denny (1976)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:One evening little Gavroche had had no dinner; he remembered that he had had no dinner also the day before; this was becoming tiresome. He resolved that he would try for some supper.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]One evening little Gavroche had eaten nothing; he remembered that he had not dined either on the previous day, and that was becoming ridiculous, so he formed the resolution to try and sup.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]One evening, little Gavroche had had nothing to eat; he remembered that he had not dined on the preceding day either; this was becoming tiresome. He resolved to make an effort to secure some supper.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]One evening, little Gavroche had had no dinner; he remembered that he had had no dinner the day before either; this was becoming tiresome. He decided to try for some supper.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]It was evening and little Gavroche had not eaten. He remembered he had not had a meal the day before, either. This was becoming tiresome. He made up his mind to try for some supper.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
We sleek, well-fed folk can hardly realize what feeling hungry is like. We know what it is to have no appetite and not to care for the dainty victuals placed before us, but we do not understand what it means to sicken for food — to die for bread while others waste it — to gaze with famished eyes upon coarse fare steaming behind dingy windows, longing for a pen’orth of pea pudding and not having the penny to buy it — to feel that a crust would be delicious and that a bone would be a banquet.
Jerome K. Jerome (1859–1927) English writer, humorist [Jerome Klapka Jerome]
Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, “On Eating and Drinking” (1886)
(Source)
You’re going to have to explain the logic of man to me, Mr. Grudge. For example, tell me how you come about your selective morality. This ease with which you strip off your conscience like an overcoat — and let your satisfied belch drown out the hunger cries that fill the air around you. How do you create the exact science whereby you disinvolve yourself from all the anguish of the world that doesn’t happen to be in your direct line of vision? That doesn’t take a special breed of man at all, Mr. Grudge. That is man in his normal condition.
Rod Serling (1924–1975) American screenwriter, playwright, television producer, narrator
A Carol for Another Christmas [Ghost of Christmas Present] (1964)
(Source)
All deaths are dour: the fate of men is sad; but there’s no death more miserable than the doom starvation sends.
[Πάντες μὲν στυγεροὶ θάνατοι δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι,
λιμῷ δ’ οἴκτιστον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν.]Homer (fl. 7th-8th C. BC) Greek author
The Odyssey [Ὀδύσσεια], Book 12, l. 341ff (12.341-342) [Eurylochus] (c. 700 BC) [tr. Mandelbaum (1990)]
(Source)
Urging is fellow sailors to slaughter the Sun God's cattle. That ends poorly.Original Greek. Other translations:Hear what I shall say,
Though words will staunch no hunger, ev’ry death
To us poor wretches that draw temporal breath
You know is hateful; but, all know, to die
The death of Famine is a misery
Past all death loathsome.
[tr. Chapman (1616)]Meantime Eurylochus bad counsel gives
To his companions. All deaths, quoth he,
Are hateful to what thing soever lives;
But death by hunger is the worst can be.
[tr. Hobbes (1675)]O friends, a thousand ways frail mortals lead
To the cold tomb, and dreadful all to tread;
But dreadful most, when by a slow decay
Pale hunger wastes the manly strength away.
[tr. Pope (1725)]Death, however caused,
Abhorrence moves in miserable man,
But death by famine is a fate of all
Most to be fear’d.
[tr. Cowper (1792)]Friends, though to wretched men all deaths are dire,
Yet it is far most miserable to pine
With pangs of famine and for want expire.
[tr. Worsley (1861), st. 47]Death is in all shapes to unhappy men
A fearful fate: but misery extreme
Were it our own destruction to provoke
And die of hunger.
[tr. Musgrave (1869), l. 515ff]All deaths are hateful to us wretched mortals;
But death by famine is most pitiable.
[tr. Bigge-Wither (1869)]Truly every shape of death is hateful to wretched mortals, but to die of hunger and so meet doom is most pitiful of all.
[tr. Butcher/Lang (1879)]All manner of death is loathly to wretched men that die,
But to meet our fate by famine is to end most wretchedly.
[tr. Morris (1887)]Hateful is every form of death to wretched mortals; and yet to die by hunger, and so to meet one's doom, is the most pitiful of all.
[tr. Palmer (1891)]All deaths are bad enough, but there is none so bad as famine.
[tr. Butler (1898)]All forms of death are hateful to wretched mortals, but to die of hunger, and so meet one's doom, is the most pitiful.
[tr. Murray (1919)]No variety of death is pleasing to us poor mortals: but commend me to hunger and its slow perishing as the meanest fate of all.
[tr. Lawrence (1932)]To us wretched men all forms of death are abominable, but death by starvation is the most miserable end that one can meet.
[tr. Rieu (1946)]All deaths are hateful to us, mortal wretches, but famine is the most pitiful, the worst end that a man can come to.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1961)]All deaths are detestable for wretched mortals,
but hunger is the sorriest way to die and encounter fate.
[tr. Lattimore (1965)]All ways of dying are hateful to us poor mortals,
true, but to die of hunger, starve to death --
that's the worst of all.
[tr. Fagles (1996)]Every manner of dying is hateful to miserable mortals,
but most wretched by hunger to die and encounter our doomsday.
[tr. Merrill (2002)]To us wretched men all forms of death are abominable,
but death by starvation is the most miserable way to meet one's doom.
[tr. DCH Rieu (2002)]All ways of dying are hateful to wretched mortals, but the most miserable way to meet one's doom is by hunger.
[tr. Verity (2016)]All human deaths are hard to bear. But starving is most miserable of all.
[tr. Wilson (2017)]All kinds of death are loathsome to wretched mortals,
but to die of starvation -- that's the most pitiful of fates!
[tr. Green (2018)]For wretched human beings
all forms of death are hateful. But to die
from lack of food, to meet one’s fate like that,
is worst of all. [tr. Johnston (2019), l. 445ff]
Spent with fatigue, and shrunk with pining fast,
My craving bowels still require repast.
Howe’er the noble, suffering mind may grieve
Its load of anguish, and disdain to live,
Necessity demands our daily bread;
Hunger is insolent, and will be fed.[ἀλλ᾽ ἐμὲ μὲν δορπῆσαι ἐάσατε κηδόμενόν περ:
οὐ γάρ τι στυγερῇ ἐπὶ γαστέρι κύντερον ἄλλο
ἔπλετο, ἥ τ᾽ ἐκέλευσεν ἕο μνήσασθαι ἀνάγκῃ
καὶ μάλα τειρόμενον καὶ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ πένθος ἔχοντα,
ὡς καὶ ἐγὼ πένθος μὲν ἔχω φρεσίν, ἡ δὲ μάλ᾽ αἰεὶ
ἐσθέμεναι κέλεται καὶ πινέμεν, ἐκ δέ με πάντων
ληθάνει ὅσσ᾽ ἔπαθον, καὶ ἐνιπλησθῆναι ἀνώγει.]Homer (fl. 7th-8th C. BC) Greek author
The Odyssey [Ὀδύσσεια], Book 7, l. 215ff (7.215) [Odysseus to Alcinous] (c. 700 BC) [tr. Pope (1725)]
(Source)
Original Greek. Other translations:Worse than an envious belly nothing is.
It will command his strict necessities,
Of men most griev’d in body or in mind,
That are in health, and will not give their kind
A desp’rate wound. When most with cause I grieve,
It bids me still, Eat, man, and drink, and live;
And this makes all forgot. Whatever ill
I ever bear, it ever bids me fill.
[tr. Chapman (1616)]No creature is so fierce as is the gut,
And so loud barketh when it is forgot,
That out of mind it never can be put,
But will be heard whether one will or not.
So ’tis with me, that am afflicted sore,
Yet still my belly bids me eat and drink,
And forget all I had endured before,
And on my misery no more to think.
[tr. Hobbes (1675), l. 201ff]But let me eat, comfortless as I am,
Uninterrupted; for no call is loud
As that of hunger in the ears of man;
Importunate, unreas’nable, it constrains
His notice, more than all his woes beside.
So, I much sorrow feel, yet not the less
Hear I the blatant appetite demand
Due sustenance, and with a voice that drowns
E’en all my suff’rings, till itself be fill’d.
[tr. Cowper (1792), l. 266ff]But let me feed in peace, though sore distressed.
Nothing more shameless is than Appetite,
Who still, whatever anguish load our breast,
Makes us remember in our own despite
Both food and drink. Thus I, thrice wretched wight,
Carry of inward grief surpassing store,
Yet she constrains me with superior might,
Wipes clean away the memory-written score,
And takes whate'er I give, and taking craveth more.
[tr. Worsley (1861), st. 29]But let me now eat on, tho' sick at heart:
Nought is more shameless than a craving stomach,
Which bids remembrance of herself by force,
Tho' sorely worn the limbs, and sad the heart!
So I am sad at heart: but she for ever
Is bidding me eat and drink; and making forget
All I have borne; and still to gorge compels me!
[tr. Bigge-Wither (1869)]But as for me, suffer me to sup, afflicted as I am; for nought is there more shameless than a ravening belly, which biddeth a man perforce be mindful of him, though one be worn and sorrowful in spirit, even as I have sorrow of heart; yet evermore he biddeth me eat and drink and maketh me utterly to forget all my sufferings, and commandeth me to take my fill.
[tr. Butcher/Lang (1879)]But I pray you amidst of my sorrow that ye suffer me supper to eat,
For nought indeed more shameless than the belly-beast may ye meet,
When need and he are bidding that we mind us of his part,
Although we be worn and wasted and have sorrow in the heart.
Thus I in my my heart have sorry, but the belly evermore
Will bid me to eat and to drink and forget my sorrow sore,
Whatso my soul may have suffered, and to filling forceth me.
[tr. Morris (1887), l. 215ff]But let me now, though sick of heart, take supper; for nothing is more brutal than an angry belly. Perforce it bids a man attend, sadly though he be worn, though grief be on his mind. Even so, I too have grief upon my mind, and yet this ever more calls me to eat and drink; all I have borne it makes me quite forget, and bid me take my fill.
[tr. Palmer (1891)]Nevertheless, let me sup in spite of sorrow, for an empty stomach is a very importunate thing, and thrusts itself on a man's notice no matter how dire is his distress. I am in great trouble, yet it insists that I shall eat and drink, bids me lay aside all memory of my sorrows and dwell only on the due replenishing of itself.
[tr. Butler (1898)]But as for me, suffer me now to eat, despite my grief; for there is nothing more shameless than a hateful belly, which bids a man perforce take thought thereof, be he never so sore distressed and laden with grief at heart, even as I, too, am laden with grief at heart, yet ever does my belly bid me eat and drink, and makes me forget all that I have suffered, and commands me to eat my fill.
[tr. Murray (1919)]But instead I will ask leave to obey my instincts and fall upon this supper, as I would do despite my burden of woe. See now, there is not anything so exigent as a man's ravening belly, which will not leave him alone to feel even so sore a grief as this grief in my heart, but prefers to overwhelm his misery with its needs for meat and drink, forcibly and shamelessly compelling him to put its replenishment above his soul's agony.
[tr. Lawrence (1932)]But all I ask of you now is your leave to eat my supper, in spite of all my troubles. For nothing in the world is so incontinent as a man’s accursed appetite. However afflicted he may be and sick at heart, it calls for attention so loudly that he is bound to obey it. Such is my case: my heart is sick with grief, yet my hunger insists that I shall eat and drink. It makes me forget all I have suffered and forces me to take my fill.
[tr. Rieu (1946)]You will indulge me if I finish dinner--?
grieved though I am to say it. There's no part
of man more like a dog than brazen Belly,
crying to be remembered -- and it must be --
when we are mortal weary and sick at heart;
and that is my condition. Yet my hunger
drives me to take this food, and think no more
of my afflictions. Belly must be filled.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1961)]But leave me now to eat my dinner, for all my sorrow,
for there is no other thing so shameless as to be set over
the belly, but when she rather uses constraint and makes me think of her,
even when sadly worn, when in my heart I have sorrow
as now I have sorrow in my heart, eyt still forever
she tells me to eat and drink and forces me to forgetfulness
of all I have suffered, and still she is urgent that I must fill her.
[tr. Lattimore (1965)]But let me, even in my sorrow, eat.
There is no thing more shameless than the belly;
however tried we are, whatever pain
assails our heart, the hateful stomach claims
its right to be remember: it constrains
us always, forcing us to eat and drink,
even as I, though sick at heart, am now
compelled to set aside my long ordeal:
my belly bids me see that it be filled.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1990)]But despite my misery, let me finish dinner.
The belly’s a shameless dog, there’s nothing worse.
Always insisting, pressing, it never lets us forget --
destroyed as I am, my heart racked with sadness,
sick with anguish, still it keeps demanding,
"Eat, drink!" It blots out all the memory
of my pain, commanding, "Fill me up!"
[tr. Fagles (1996)]But all I want now is to be allowed to eat,
Despite my grief. There is nothing more shameless
Than this belly of ours, which forces a man
To pay attention to it, no matter how many
Troubles he has, how much pain is in his heart.
I have pain my heart, but my belly always
Makes me eat and drink and forget my troubles,
Pestering me to keep it filled.
[tr. Lombardo (2000), l. 228ff]But instead let me eat my dinner in spite of my grieving; since there is not one thing more shameless or gross than the hateful belly, which orders a man to remember it by a compulsion, even if he is exhausted and feels in his heart great sorrow. So even though I have great sorrow of heart, it is always ordering me to devour and to drink, and of all those woes which I have endured it makes me forgetful and bids me to fill up.
[tr. Merrill (2002)]But, in spite of all my troubles, give me leave to eat my supper. For nothing in the world is so shamelessly demanding as a man's confounded stomach. However afflicted he may be and sick at heart, it calls for attention so loudly that he is bound to obey it. such is my case: my heart is sick with grief, yet my stomach insists that I eat and drink. It makes me forget all I have suffered and forces me to eat my fill.
[tr. DCH Rieu (2002)]But despite my grief, let me eat, since there is nothing more shameful than the wretched stomach that demands a man’s attention however deep his distress, or heavy his heart, and my heart is heavy now, yet my stomach goes on insisting I eat and drink, making me forget what I suffered, demanding its fill.
[tr. Kline (2004)]But leave me now to eat my supper, distressed though I am; there is nothing more shameless than a man's wretched belly, which lays him under necessity to be mindful of it even when he is sorely troubled and nursing grief in his heart. This is my case: I am nursing grief in my heart, and yet it is forever urging me to eat and drink, making me forget all that I have suffered, always telling me to eat my fill.
[tr. Verity (2016)]But let me have my meal, despite my grief.
The belly is just like a whining dog:
it begs and forces one to notice it,
despite exhaustion or depths of sorry.
My heart is full of sorrow, but my stomach
is always telling me to eat and drink.
It tells me to forget what I have suffered,
and fill it up.
[tr. Wilson (2017)]But first let me eat some dinner, grieving though I am: for nothing exists more shameless than one's loathsome belly, that forces a man to take notice of it at need, however distressed he may be and stricken by grief at heart, as I am grief-stricken now; yet still unremittingly it commands me to eat and drink, forces me to forget everything I have suffered, insists on being refilled!
[tr. Green (2018)]But let me eat my dinner,
though I’m in great distress. For there’s nothing
more shameless than an unhappy stomach,
which bids a man to think about its needs,
even if he’s sad or many troubles
sit heavy on his heart, the way my spirit
is now full of sorrow, yet my belly
is always telling me to eat and drink,
forgetting everything I’ve had to bear,
and forcing me to gorge myself with food.
[tr. Johnston (2019)]
A rich man cannot enjoy a sound mind nor a sound body without exercise and abstinence; and yet these are truly the worst ingredients of poverty.
Henry Home, Lord Kames (1696–1782) Scottish jurist, agriculturalist, philosopher, writer
Introduction to the Art of Thinking, ch. 2 (1761)
(Source)
I was often humiliated to see men disputing for a piece of bread, just as animals might have done. My feelings on this subject have very much altered since I have been personally exposed to the tortures of hunger. I have discovered, in fact, that a man, whatever may have been his origin, his education, and his habits, is governed, under certain circumstances, much more by his stomach than by his intelligence and his heart.
François Arago (1786–1853) French Catalan mathematician, physicist, astronomer, politician
Biographies of Distinguished Scientific Men, “The History of My Youth” (1859) [tr. Smyth, Powell, Grant]
(Source)
So long as there shall exist, by virtue of law and custom, decrees of damnation pronounced by society, artificially creating hells amid the civilization of earth, and adding the element of human fate to divine destiny; so long as the three great problems of the century — the degradation of man through pauperism, the corruption of woman through hunger, the crippling of children through lack of light — are unsolved; so long as social asphyxia is possible in any part of the world; — in other words, and with a still wider significance, so long as ignorance and poverty exist on earth, books of the nature of Les Misérables cannot fail to be of use.
[Tant qu’il existera, par le fait des lois et des mœurs, une damnation sociale créant artificiellement, en pleine civilisation, des enfers, et compliquant d’une fatalité humaine la destinée qui est divine; tant que les trois problèmes du siècle, la dégradation de l’homme par le prolétariat, la déchéance de la femme par la faim, l’atrophie de l’enfant par la nuit, ne seront pas résolus; tant que, dans de certaines régions, l’asphyxie sociale sera possible; en d’autres termes, et à un point de vue plus étendu encore, tant qu’il y aura sur la terre ignorance et misère, des livres de la nature de celui-ci pourront ne pas être inutiles.]
Victor Hugo (1802–1885) French writer, journalist, human rights activist, politician
Les Misérables, Preface (1862) [tr. Hapgood (1887)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Other translations:So long as there shall exist, by reason of law and custom, a social condemnation, which, in the face of civilization, artificially creates hells on earth, and complicates a destiny that is divine, with human fatality; so long as the three problems of the age -- the degradation of man by poverty, the ruin of woman by starvation, and the dwarfing of childhood by physical and spiritual night -- are not solved; so long as, in certain regions, social asphyxia shall be possible ; in other words, and from a yet more extended point of view, so long as ignorance and misery remain on earth, books like this cannot be useless.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]As long as there shall exist, as a consequence of laws and customs, a social damnation artificially creating hells in the midst of civilization, and complicating the destiny which is divine with a fatality which is human; as long as the three problems of the age -- the degradation of man by the proletariat, the ruin of woman by hunger, the atrophy of the child by the night—are not solved; as long as in certain regions social asphyxia shall be possible; in other terms, and from a still more extended point of view, as long as there shall be on the earth ignorance and wretchedness, books of the nature of this one cannot be useless.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]While through the working of laws and customs there continues to exist a condition of social condemnation which artificially creates a human hell within civilization, and complicates with human fatality a destiny that is divine; while the three great problems of this century, the degradation of man in the proletariat, the subjection of women through hunger, the atrophy of the child by darkness, continue unresolved; while in some regions social asphyxia remains possible; in other words, and in still wider terms, while ignorance and poverty persist on earth, books such as this cannot fail to be of value.
[tr. Denny (1976)]So long as there shall exist, by reason of law and custom, a social condemnation which, in the midst of civilization, artificially creates a hell on earth, and complicates with human fatality a destiny that is divine; so long as the three problems of the century -- the degradation of man by the exploitation of his labor, the ruin of woman by starvation, and the atrophy of childhood by physical and spiritual night -- are not solved; so long as, in certain regions, social asphyxia shall be possible; in other words, and, from a still broader point of view, so long as ignorance and misery remain on earth, there should be a need for books such as this.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]As long as through the workings of laws and customs there exists a. damnation-by-society artificially creating hells int he very midst of civilization and complicating destiny, which is divine, with a man-made fate; as long as the three problems of the age are not resolved: the debasement of of men through proletarianization, the moral degradation of women through hunger, and the blighting of children by keeping them in darkness; as long as in certain strata social suffocation is possible; in other words and from an even broader perspective, as long as there are ignorance and poverty on earth, books of this kind may serve some purpose.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
The murmuring poor, who will not fast in peace.
George Crabbe (1754–1832) English poet, writer, surgeon, clergyman
“The Newspaper,” l. 158 (1785)
(Source)
Love and business and family and religion and art and patriotism are nothing but shadows of words when a man’s starving.
O. Henry (1862–1910) American short story writer [pseud. for William Sydney Porter]
“Cupid à la Carte,” Heart of the West (1907)
Fear for one’s daily bread destroys one’s character.
Franz Kafka (1883–1924) Czech-Austrian Jewish writer
In G. Janouch, “Conversations with Kafka” [tr. Rees] Encounter (Aug 1971)
Of what use is political liberty to those who have no bread?
Jean-Paul Marat (1743–1793) French physician, political theorist, scientist, journalist
Letter to Camille Desmoulins (24 Jun 1790)
We cannot exist as a little island of well-being in a world where two-thirds of the people go to bed hungry every night.
Eleanor Roosevelt (1884–1962) American politician, diplomat, activist; First Lady of the US (1933–45)
Speech (8 Dec 1959)
Well, by God, I’m hungry. … My guts is yellin’ bloody murder.
John Steinbeck (1902–1968) American writer
The Grapes of Wrath, ch. 9 (1939)
No man was ever more than about nine meals away from crime or suicide.
Eric Sevareid (1912–1992) American journalist [Arnold Eric Sevareid]
“A New Kind of Leadership,” speech, Conference on Vision Care, Washington, DC (26 Apr 1974)
For more discussion of this and other closely parallel quotations, see: There Are Only Nine Meals Between Mankind and Anarchy – Quote Investigator.
There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificate — died of malnutrition — because the food must rot, must be forced to rot.
In the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.
John Steinbeck (1902–1968) American writer
The Grapes of Wrath, ch. 25 (1939)
Hunger makes a thief of any man.
Pearl S. Buck (1892–1973) American writer
The Good Earth, ch. 15 (1931)
