I saw the dead without really seeing them.

The revolution is like a vessel filled with the pulsating heartbeat of millions of working people.

I was at the front for thirteen months, and by the end of that time the sharpest perceptions had become dulled, the greatest words mean.

How happy I am to go to the front at last. To do my bit. To prove with my life what I think I feel.

I saw the dead without really seeing them.

In a quiet Franciscan monastery kind and silent monks looked after me. After many weeks I was discharged. Unfit for further service.

As a boy I used to go to the Chamber of Horrors at the annual fair, to look at the wax figures of Emperors and Kings, of heroes and murderers of the day. The dead now had that same unreality, which shocks without arousing pity.