Come Let Me Kiss You. Life Was

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.

He Fell In October 1918, On A Day That Was So Quiet And Still On The Whole Front, That The Army Report Confined Itself To The Single Sentence: All Quiet On The Western Front. He Had Fallen Forward And Lay On The Earth As Though Sleeping. Turning Him Over One Saw That He Could Not Have Suffered Long; His Face Had An Expression Of Calm, As Though Almost Glad The End Had Come.

The Wisest Were Just The Poor And Simple People. They Knew The War To Be A Misfortune, Whereas Those Who Were Better Off, And Should Have Been Able To See More Clearly What The Consequences Would Be, Were Beside Themselves With Joy.

The War Has Ruined Us For Everything.

It Was A Melancholy Secret That Reality Can Arouse Desires But Never Satisfy Them.