A Man Is Never Completely

Suffering Is By No Means A Privilege, A Sign Of Nobility, A Reminder Of God. Suffering Is A Fierce, Bestial Thing, Commonplace, Uncalled For, Natural As Air. It Is Intangible; No One Can Grasp It Or Fight Against It; It Dwells In Time - Is The Same Thing As Time; If It Comes In Fits And Starts, That Is Only So As To Leave The Sufferer More Defenseless During The Moments That Follow, Those Long Moments When One Relives The Last Bout Of Torture And Waits For The Next.

Love Has The Faculty Of Making Two Lovers Seem Naked, Not In Each Other's Sight, But In Their Own.

Childhood Is Not Only The Childhood We Really Had But Also The Impressions We Formed Of It In Our Adolescence And Maturity. That Is Why Childhood Seems So Long. Probably Every Period Of Life Is Multiplied By Our Reflections Upon The Next.

Now That I've Seen What War Is, What Civil War Is, I Know That Everybody, If One Day It Should End, Ought To Ask Himself: "and What Shall We Make Of The Fallen? Why Are They Dead?" I Wouldn't Know What To Say. Not Now, At Any Rate. Nor Does It Seem To Me That The Others Know. Perhaps Only Dead Know, And Only For Them Is The War Really Over.

Certainly, To Have A Woman Who Waits At Home For You, Who Will Sleep With You, Gives A Warm Feeling Like Having Something You Must Say; It Makes You Glow, Keeps You Company, Helps You To Live.