... But That's What Mankind Is Like:

Someone Said To Me Once That A Cigarette At The Right Moment Is Better Than All The Ideals In The World.

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

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.

Our Knowledge Of Life Is Limited To Death

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