It might seem strange but I liked cemeteries. There everything is calm and quiet. The people who come there aren't drawn to the noise of the living but the quiet of the dead. In every town, in every city, cemeteries are there as havens of peace and motionless tranquility. But once, I faced a night in a cemetery. I entered in the evening and sat upon a bench before drifting to sleep. I woke in darkness. Panicked, I wanted to leave, but the caretaker had already locked the gates. At night the peace one may find in the warm light of day vanishes. The slightest sound induces panic, gravestones seem to move and the blowing wind sounds like howling moans. My heart barely survived the night and I have never forgotten the terror I felt. When I staggered out of the gates in the morning I heard the caretaker yell after me: You look pale as a ghost! Spend too much time with the dead and you'll join them!