" What for? What-for-what-for-what-for?” I muttered.

They stuck their awl into my throat.

I didn’t know that there was pain like that in the world. And I writhed from the torture of it – a clotted red letter “Ю” spread across my eyes and started to quiver. And since then I have not regained consciousness, and I never will. "

― Venedikt Erofeev , Moscow to the End of the Line