It's all a terrible tragedy. And yet, in it's details, it's great fun. And - apart from the tragedy - I've never felt happier or better in my life than in those days in Belgium.

And in that Heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish

Infinite hungers leap no more I in the chance swaying of your dress; and love has changed to kindliness.

Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.

Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead! There's none of these so lonely and poor of old, But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold.

Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet Death as a friend!

The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss of blankets.