"He himself was living in the depths of a barracks from which he would not emerge, and among squads of soldiers from which he himself did not know whether they were still loyal to him. His system was like a house made of boards, damaged from the inside by woodworms, and it itself was mined by the weight of worries. It was bareley impossible to have a consistent, sustained conversation with him. He was nervous like no other, and he moved from one topic to another every ten minutes. He would get up and wander aimlessly around the room, and would hardly sit back down before he would get up again. It was clear that this man's nerves were bad. Perhaps his mind was injured as well. He could no longer control himself. As for his political concepts, to the extent that I was able to understand them, they were amazing"