It was an odd friendship, but the oddnesses of friendships are a frequent guarantee of their lasting texture.

The war had made a man of him! It had coarsened him and hardened him. There was no other way to look at it. It had made him reach a point at which he would no longer stand unbearable things.

We are all so afraid, we are all so alone, we all so need from the outside the assurance of our own worthiness to exist.

Higher than the beasts, lower than the angels, stuck in our idiot Eden.

There is no man who loves a woman that does not desire to come to her for the renewal of his courage, for the cutting asunder of his difficulties. And that will be the mainspring of his desire for her. We are all so afraid, we are all so alone, we all so need from the outside the assurance of our own worthiness to exist.

And it was a most remarkable, a most moving glance, as if for a moment a lighthouse had looked at me.

He thought he suddenly understood. For the Lincon-shire sergeant-major the word Peace meant that a man could stand up on a hill. For him it meant someone to talk to.