That's the worst of a war--you have to go on hearing about it so long.

Defeat furnishes good material to the poets and the artists, but none of us care to have the glory of the conquered apply to us.

They made small effort to cover their raw souls with the mantle of commonplace words.

Strength diminishes when it seems we are spending it in vain.

As I grow older, I think friendship between women is a thing to cherish.

But mayn't desertion be a brave thing? A fine thing? To desert a thing we've gone beyond - to have the courage to desert it and walk right off from the dead thing to the live thing - ?

Seems nothing draws men together like killing other men.