[I]nstead of the usual "Why can't we make movies more like real life?" I think a more pertinent question is "Why can't real life be more like the movies?"

There is no sense in the struggle, but there is no choice but to struggle.

It was a night when London was ringed and stabbed with fire.

In their eyes as they pass is not hatred, not excitement, not despair, not the tonic of their victory - there is just the simple expression of being here as though they had been here doing this forever, and nothing else.

Somebody said that carrier pilots were the best in the world, and they must be or there wouldn't be any of them left alive.

I've been immersed in it too long. My spirit is wobbly and my mind is confused. The hurt has become too great.

The closest fires were near enough for us to hear the crackling flames and the yells of firemen. Little fires grew into big ones even as we watched. Big ones died down under the firemen's valor only to break out again later.