Every Little Bean Must Be Heard As

They Are More To Me Than Life, These Voices, They Are More Than Motherliness And More Than Fear; They Are The Strongest, Most Comforting Thing There Is Anywhere: They Are The Voices Of My Comrades.

We Lie Under The Network Of Arching Shells And Live In A Suspense Of Uncertainty. If A Shot Comes, We Can Duck, That Is All; We Neither Know Nor Can Determine Where It Will Fall." - All Quiet On The Western Front, Ch. 6

Give 'em All The Same Grub And All The Same Pay/and The War Would Be Over And Done In A Day." - All Quiet On The Western Front, Ch. 3

The Music Enchanted The Air. It Was Like The South Wind, Like A Warm Night, Like Swelling Sails Beneath The Stars, Completely And Utterly Unreal... It Made Everything Spacious And Colourful, The Dark Stream Of Life Seemed Pulsing In It; There Were No Burdens Any More, No Limits; There Existed Only Glory And Melody And Love, So That One Simply Could Not Realize That, At The Same Time As This Music Was, Outside There Ruled Poverty And Torment And Despair.

Our Thoughts Are Clay, They Are Moulded With The Changes Of The Days;--when We Are Resting They Are Good; Under Fire, They Are Dead. Fields Of Craters Within And Without.