Heaven Has No Favorites

Give 'em All The Same Grub And All The Same Pay/and The War Would Be Over And Done In A Day." - All Quiet On The Western Front, Ch. 3

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.

Yes, That's The Way They Think, These Hundred Thousand Kantoreks! Iron Youth! Youth! We Are None Of Us More Than Twenty Years Old. But Young? That Is Long Ago. We Are Old Folk.

I Am No Longer A Shuddering Speck Of Existence, Alone In The Darkness;--i Belong To Them And They To Me; We All Share The Same Fear And The Same Life...i Could Bury My Face In Them, In These Voices, These Words That Have Saved Me And Will Stand By Me.

I, Too, Am Going To Go Away Soon,' She Says, 'i Am Weary And Weary Of My Weariness. Everything Is Beginning To Be A Little Empty And Full Of Leave-taking And Melancholy And Waiting.