The birds, the poets of the animal creation - what though they never get beyond the lyrical! - awoke to utter their own joy, and awake like joy in others of God's children.
Sometimes [Eva Braun] would go back to his apartment to "make up. " At the Berghof, these arguments didn't last as long, [Adolf Hitler] would smooth her feathers and they'd be good together again. I doubt anybody else noticed this but me. It wasn't obvious.