Cholnoky Viktor - A sekrestyés

"There, under the Battle Hill, stretching from the Campsite all the way to Cserhát, over the land of Duke Jutas, gray as a filter spread over the bumpy ground, lay the city, Veszprém. Only the castle sewed a tulip-shaped male on it, with its two churches and painted on the canons' crest, with its small houses. Nothing moved there either, it almost seemed that the entire chapter was still asleep, even though the canons would only know - and then they would be on their feet - that Mr. Oliver died that night. It can't be that the world will collapse only then , when we ourselves die: if not in whole, but in some part, we just have to move even when such a great lord as the knight Oliver Rátold closes his eyes. Or does it not even collapse with our own death? Lőkös thought horrified, that the day will come when he too will fall off his chin, and that's why the foam of the Séd continues to flow just like before, the mill's pit does not stop ticking for a minute, but not even a single yellow petal of a pimpippa turns its eyes from the sky to the ground, into which he, the miller from Kádárta, is lowered." (Knight Oliver) "One evening he watched Machbet's performance, and when he came home, he said excitedly: - Absurd!... The ghost does not appear in front, but behind the back of the ghost-seeer, so that he is forced to look back and forth restlessly! Nice thought it became that, and from then on he made plans to write a study. While he was planning, he liked to wander in the wonderland of ghosts. And the ghosts returned the visit, began to appear behind him as he wished, and poor Viktor Cholnoky began to look back and forth at them. His visions meanwhile, the wet blue veil appeared again in her sad eyes, and she looked with splendid sadness at the gifts of the ghostly guests. For they did not come empty-handed: they brought an olive branch from the cemetery of dead lovers, and then from the other, in which the forever mute children rest; sometimes they brought them with them old László Cholnoky, the abbot, from the Köbánya cemetery; sometimes one of the joking ghosts brought with him Tancred's cloak or another time the coat of the Franciscan Guards of Noyon, which turned to dust in the eighteenth century (...). And the kindest host didn't let his guests go, he invited them back to him, he made warm friendships with them." - László Cholnoky