Flying is the only active profession I could ever continue with enthusiasm after the War.
Numbers of the old people cannot read. Those who can seldom do
The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
My subject is war, and the pity of war.
No-man's land under snow is like the face of the moon: chaotic, crater ridden, uninhabitable, awful, the abode of madness.
I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears; and caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts; and buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts; and rusted every bayonet with His tears.