War Is Not An Adventure. It Is

For I Do Not Want Any One To Read My Book Carelessly. I Have Suffered Too Much Grief In Setting Down These Memories. Six Years Have Already Passed Since My Friend Went Away From Me, With His Sheep. If I Try To Describe Him Here, It Is To Make Sure That I Shall Not Forget Him. To Forget A Friend Is Sad. Not Every One Has Had A Friend. And If I Forget Him, I May Become Like The Grown-ups Who Are No Longer Interested In Anything But Figures.

One Can Be A Brother Only In Something. Where There Is No Tie That Binds Men, Men Are Not United But Merely Lined Up.

It Is In Your Act That You Exist, Not In Your Body. Your Act Is Yourself, And There Is No Other You.

A Pilot's Business Is With The Wind, And With The Stars, With Night, With Sand, With The Sea. He Strives To Outwit The Forces Of Nature. He Stares With Expectancy For The Coming Of The Dawn The Way A Gardener Awaits The Coming Of Spring. He Looks Forward To Port As A Promised Land, And Truth For Him Is What Lives In The Stars.

A Man's Age Is Something Impressive, It Sums Up His Life: Maturity Reached Slowly And Against Many Obstacles, Illnesses Cured, Griefs And Despairs Overcome, And Unconscious Risks Taken; Maturity Formed Through So Many Desires, Hopes, Regrets, Forgotten Things, Loves. A Man's Age Represents A Fine Cargo Of Experience And Memories.