You Take It From Me, We Are

Keep Things At Arm's Length... If You Let Anything Come Too Near You Want To Hold On To It. And There Is Nothing A Man Can Hold On To.

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.

Strange How Complicated We Can Make Things Just To Avoid Showing What We Feel!

Heaven Has No Favorites

That Is The Remarkable Thing About Drinking: It Brings People Together So Quickly, But Between Night And Morning It Sets An Interval Again Of Years.