All In All, Death Is Something Like

You Can Lose Your Way Groping Among The Shadows Of The Past. It's Frightening How Many People And Things There Are In A Man's Past That Have Stopped Moving. The Living People We've Lost In The Crypts Of Time Sleep So Soundly Side By Side With The Dead That The Same Darkness Envelops Them All. As We Grow Older, We No Longer Know Whom To Awaken, The Living Or The Dead.

They Came From The Four Corners Of The Earth, Driven By Hunger, Plague, Tumors, And The Cold, And Stopped Here. They Couldn’t Go Any Futrther Because Of The Ocean. That’s France, That’s The French People.

Philosophizing Is Simply One Way Of Being Afraid, A Cowardly Pretense That Doesn't Get You Anywhere.

My Trouble Is Insomnia. If I Had Always Slept Properly, I'd Never Have Written A Line.

I Hadn't Found Out Yet That Mankind Consists Of Two Very Different Races, The Rich And The Poor. It Took Me ... And Plenty Of Other People . . . Twenty Years And The War To Learn To Stick To My Class And Ask The Price Of Things Before Touching Them, Let Alone Setting My Heart On Them.