Here is a bit from Robert Antelme's "L'Espèce humaine", badly translated by me from the German version ("Das Menschengeschlecht") into English:
"On Sunday we have to do something, it cannot go on like this. We have to get out of the hunger. We have to talk to the people. There are some among them who are rapidly deteriorating, they are letting themselves go, they let themselves get destroyed. There are even some among them who forgot why they are here. We have to talk with each other."
This happened in the tunnel, and was carried on from mule to mule. In this way a language started to exist, which was no longer the language of cursing or something thrown up from the stomach, and also not the barking for a cup of food. This language here created a distance between the human and the muddy, yellow earth, so that he was no longer dug into it, but its master, master even over the empty pocket of his stomach. In the pit, in the bent body, in the deformed head, the world opened."
"On Sunday we have to do something, it cannot go on like this. We have to get out of the hunger. We have to talk to the people. There are some among them who are rapidly deteriorating, they are letting themselves go, they let themselves get destroyed. There are even some among them who forgot why they are here. We have to talk with each other."
This happened in the tunnel, and was carried on from mule to mule. In this way a language started to exist, which was no longer the language of cursing or something thrown up from the stomach, and also not the barking for a cup of food. This language here created a distance between the human and the muddy, yellow earth, so that he was no longer dug into it, but its master, master even over the empty pocket of his stomach. In the pit, in the bent body, in the deformed head, the world opened."