The Coffin, It Shall Protect Me, Though

We're No Longer Young Men. We've Lost Any Desire To Conquer The World. We Are Refugees. We Are Fleeing From Ourselves. From Our Lives. We Were Eighteen Years Old, And We Had Just Begun To Love The World And To Love Being In It; But We Had To Shoot At It. The First Shell To Land Went Straight For Our Hearts. We've Been Cut Off From Real Action, From Getting On, From Progress. We Don't Believe In Those Things Any More; We Believe In The War.

My Rage Outweighs My Shame, As Always Happens When One Is Really Ashamed And Knows He Ought To Be.

That Is The Remarkable Thing About Drinking: It Brings People Together So Quickly, But Between Night And Morning It Sets An Interval Again Of Years.

Everyone Saves Someone At Least Once. Just As He Kills Someone At Least Once. Even Though He May Not Know It.

Heaven Has No Favorites