No-man's land under snow is like the face of the moon: chaotic, crater ridden, uninhabitable, awful, the abode of madness.
Wilfred OwenThe war affects me less than it ought. But I can do no service to anybody by agitating for news or making dole over the slaughter.
Wilfred OwenAs bronze may be much beautified by lying in the dark damp soil, so men who fade in dust of warfare fade fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.
Wilfred Owen