There was never a revolution to equal it, and never a city more glorious than Petrograd, and for all that period of my life I lived another and braved the ice of winter and the summer flies in Vyborg while across my adopted country of the past, winds of the revolution blew their flame, and all of us suffered hunger while we drank at the wine of equality.
ATTRIBUTION:
Norman Mailer (b. 1923), U.S. author. Michael Lovett, in Barbary Shore, ch. 14, Rinehart (1951).
