Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.

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.

The worst of slaves is he whom passion rules.

Oh! death will find me long before I tire of watching you.

If I should die, think only this of me: that there's some corner of a foreign field that is for ever England.

Youth is stranger than fiction.

Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.