Things Have A Terrible Permanence When People

At Present, I Am A Poet Trying To Be A Soldier. To Tell The Truth, I Am Not Interested In Writing Nowadays, Except In So Far As Writing Is The Expression Of Something Beautiful ... The Only Sort Of Book I Care To Write About The War Is The Sort People Will Read After The War Is Over - A Century After It Is Over.

The Only Reason A Road Is Good As Every Wanderer Knows / Is Just Because Of The Homes, The Homes, The Homes To Which One Goes

I Suppose I Passed It A Hundred Times, But I Always Stop For A Minute. And Look At The House, The Tragic House, The House With Nobody In It.

The Air Is Like A Butterfly With Frail Blue Wings. The Happy Earth Looks At The Sky And Sings.

What Matters Death, If Freedom Be Not Dead? No Flags Are Fair, If Freedom's Flag Be Furled. Who Fights For Freedom, Goes With Joyful Tread To Meet The Fires Of Hell Against Him Hurled.