No Soldier Outlives A Thousand Chances.

Let The Months And Years Come, They Can Take Nothing From Me, They Can Take Nothing More. I Am So Alone, And So Without Hope That I Can Confront Them Without Fear. The Life That Has Borne Me Through These Years Is Still In My Hands And My Eyes. Whether I Have Subdued It, I Know Not. But So Long As It Is There It Will Seek Its Own Way Out, Heedless Of The Will That Is Within Me." -all Quiet On The Western Front, Chapter 12

The Room Shall Speak, It Must Catch Me Up And Hold Me, I Want To Feel That I Belong Here, I Want To Hearken And Know When I Go Back To The Front Line That The War Will Sink Down, Be Drowned Utterly In The Great Home-coming Tide, Know That It Will Then Be Past For Ever, And Not Gnaw Us Continually, That It Will Have None But An Outward Power Over Us...nothing Stirs; Listless And Wretched, Like A Condemned Man, I Sit There And The Past Withdraws Itself. And At The Same Time I Fear To Importune It Too Much, Because I Do Not Know What Might Happen Then. I Am A Soldier, I Must Cling To That.

We Have So Much To Say, And We Shall Never Say It.

We Are Forlorn Like Children, And Experienced Like Old Men, We Are Crude And Sorrowful And Superficial—i Believe We Are Lost.

I Wandered Through The Streets Thinking Of All The Things I Might Have Said And Might Have Done Had I Been Other Than I Was.