The air is an extremely dangerous, jealous and exacting mistress. Once under the spell most lovers are faithful to the end, which is not always old age. Even those masters and princes of aerial fighting, the survivors of fifty mortal duels in the high air who have come scatheless through the War and all its perils, have returned again and again to their love and perished too often in some ordinary commonplace flight undertaken for pure amusement.

The pictorial battlefield becomes a sea of mud mercifully veiled by the fog of war.

Socialism is inseparably interwoven with totalitarianism and the object worship of the state.

It has not fallen to your lot to command great armies. You had to create them, organize them and inspire them.

And a pamphlet called Pick me up There is no genuine hatred against Herr Hitler.

Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy, or that anyone who embarks on the strange voyage can measure the tides and hurricanes he will encounter. The statesman who yields to war fever must realize that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events.

A sheep in sheep's clothing.