We Are Forlorn Like Children, And Experienced

Strange How Complicated We Can Make Things Just To Avoid Showing What We Feel!

To No Man Does The Earth Mean So Much As To The Soldier. When He Presses Himself Down Upon Her Long And Powerfully, When He Buries His Face And His Limbs Deep In Her From The Fear Of Death By Shell-fire, Then She Is His Only Friend, His Brother, His Mother; He Stifles His Terror And His Cries In Her Silence And Her Security; She Shelters Him And Releases Him For Ten Seconds To Live, To Run, Ten Seconds Of Life; Receives Him Again And Again And Often Forever.

To Me The Front Is A Mysterious Whirlpool. Though I Am In Still Water Far Away From Its Centre, I Feel The Whirl Of The Vortex Sucking Me Slowly, Irresistibly, Inescapably Into Itself.

Sometimes I Used To Think That One Day I Should Wake Up, And All That Had Been Would Be Over. Forgotten, Sunk, Drowned. Nothing Was Sure - Not Even Memory.

Life Did Not Intend To Make Us Perfect. Whoever Is Perfect Belongs In A Museum.