Every sin is the result of collaboration.
Half of tradition is a lie.
A mysterious fraternity born out of smoke and danger of death.
Mother, whose heart hung humble as a button the bright splendid shroud of your son, Do not weep. War is kind.
He vaguely desired to walk around and around the body and stare; the impulse of the living to try to read in dead eyes the answer to the Question.
I saw a man pursuing the horizon