Katczinsky Says It Is All To Do

Am I Jealous? He Thought, Astonished. Jealous Of The Chance Object To Which She Has Attached Herself? Jealous Of Something That Does Not Concern Me? One Can Be Jealous Of A Love That Has Turned Away, But Not Of That To Which It Has Turned.

A Man Can Gasp Out His Life Beside You-and You Feel None Of It. Pity, Sympathy, Sure-but You Don't Feel The Pain. Your Belly Is Whole And That's What Counts. A Half-yard Away Someone's World Is Snuffled Out In Roaring Agony-and You Feel Nothing. That's The Misery Of The World.

Monotonously The Lorries Sway, Monotonously Come The Calls, Monotonously Falls The Rain. It Falls On Our Heads And On The Heads Of The Dead Up The Line, On The Body Of The Little Recruit With The Wound That Is So Much Too Big For His Hip; It Falls On Kemmerich's Grave; It Falls In Our Hearts.

I Did Not Want To Think So Much About Her. I Wanted To Take Her As An Unexpected, Delightful Gift, That Had Come And Would Go Again — Nothing More. I Meant Not To Give Room To The Thought That It Could Ever Be More. I Knew Too Well That All Love Has The Desire For Eternity And That Therein Lies Its Eternal Torment. Nothing Lasts. Nothing.

A Hospital Alone Shows What War Is.