It's the hardest thing in the world to go on being aware of someone else's pain.
Another person's life, observed from the outside, always has a shape and definition that one's own life lacks.
A society that devours its own young deserves no automatic or unquestioning allegiance.
Murder is only killing in the wrong place.
Half the world's work's done by hopeless neurotics.
Sometimes, in the trenches, you get the sense of something, ancient. One trench we held, it had skulls in the side, embedded, like mushrooms. It was actually easier to believe they were men from Marlborough's army, than to think they'd been alive a year ago. It was as if all the other wars had distilled themselves into this war, and that made it something you almost can't challenge. It's like a very deep voice, saying; 'Run along, little man, be glad you've survived.
You know you're walking around with a mask on, and you desperately want to take it off and you can't because everybody else thinks it's your face.