texts: You sell anything? </s> <s> Just one. Dostoevsky. The Idiot. Three zlotys. </s> <s> That's better than yesterday. </s> <s> Three lousy zlotys. And there are people here making millions. </s> <s> I know.
labels: You don't know, believe me. They bribe the guards. The guards turn a blind eye. They're bringing in cartloads, food, tobacco, liquor, French cosmetics, and the poor are dying all around them and they don't give a damn.