“O, wither’d is the garland of the war!
The soldier’s pole is fall'n; young boys and girls
Are level now with men; the odds is gone,
And there is nothing left remark
Beneath the visiting moon.”

“The young boy whistles, hurrying down the street,
The young girl hums beneath her breath.
One goes out to beauty, and does not know it.
And one goes out to death.”

“You are a human boy, my young friend. A human boy. O glorious to be a human boy!… O running stream of sparkling joy To be a soaring human boy!”

“In our age, if a boy or girl is untalented, the odds are in favor of their thinking they want to write.”

“Again there is a trite saying that good Soldiers never think. Though this may not be true, yet it explains the cautionary advice that War is too serious a matter to be left to Soldiers and that a very good Soldier should not be in charge of the War Office. His place should be on the battle field where he is unsurpassable. Actually, "Young men don't make War, they fight them. Old men make Wars and survive them. They are immensely brave about other people's sons," says Nicholas Montsarrat. They are the ones that jest at scars, who never felt a wound.”

“During all my wandering through two decades and two continents, I've found nothing more pathetic than the universal misery of young boys trying to charm young girls.”

“One is left with the horrible feeling now that war settles nothing; that to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one.”

“Where young boys plan for what they will achieve and attain, young girls plan for whom they will achieve and attain.”

“Gone.
Vanished.
Nothing left.
Nothing said.”

“Let your ghost follow
The young men to the Pole, up Everest, to war: by
love, be shot.
For the uncreating chaos descends
And claims you in marriage: though a man, you were
ever a bride:”