War

It was not the smell of death that shocked me, even though I could feel it, but the impossibible silence of the scene. It could have been the first bullet that made me deaf, but, still, all those things I saw seemed to me as images from a dream, nothing more than symbols, the writings of God in the walls of my vision, telling me of things forbidden, of things that should not be, and maybe are not, but were there, in front me, defying all I knew as true and trustworthy, the sacred and miraculous state of the immovable, the Universe, the mind of God, made flesh and, now, unmade.

Soft Construction with Boiled Beans (Premonition of Civil War), 1936
Salvador Dali