advocate winces as though pelted with rocks as the outrageous catalogue of a second lifetime of suffering tumbles out , each item scarcely formulated in the mind of one than expressed by the other , so that finally neither of them knows who says it , a fusion in bitterness , a polyphonic litany of grief and grievances : all that hope in those corridors , hope before all those doors that opened on nothing , hope at the beginning of the tunnel that ended in urinals , hope at the two trial-runs , the horror of them , no more of that , hope is what makes you suffer , weve abandoned hope , you cant hurt us anymore , what we want is exit , not transfer , exit , exit , exit .