Quotes About War

How senseless is everything that can ever be written, done, or thought, when such things are possible. It must be all lies and of no account when the culture of a thousand years could not prevent this stream of blood being poured out, these torture-chambers in their hundreds of thousands. A hospital alone shows what war is. I

Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but adapted ourselves; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important result was that it awakened in us a strong, practical sense of esprit de corps, which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war—comradeship.

What has Kantorek [their teacher] written to you?' Muller asks him [Kropp]. He laughs. 'We are the Iron Youth.' We all three smile bitterly . . . Yes, that's what they think, these hundred thousand Kantoreks! Iron Youth! Youth! We are none of us more than twenty years old. But young? Youth? That is long ago. We are old folk.

Enese teadmata oleme ikka veel sõdurid.

That they have, indeed! My sisters tell how they had to scrounge to get the supper together. Twice the gendarmes took everything from them at the station. The third time they sewed the eggs inside their cloaks, put the sausages into their blouses and hid the potatoes in pockets inside their skirts. That time they got through.

Pred platnima impresionista ?ovek nije mogao verovati da jedna životinjska vrsta koja je tako nešto stvorila može istovremeno spremati ubila?ki rat

Kantorek would say that we stood on the threshold of life. And so it would seem. We had as yet taken no root. The war swept us away. For the others, the older men, it is but an interruption. They are able to think beyond it. We, however, have been gripped by it and do not know what the end may be. We know only that in some strange and melancholy way we have become a wasteland.

And we stand still again, and suddenly we feel that everything out there in front of us, that absolute hell, that ragged patch of shell-holes, is still there inside us.

To me the front is a mysterious whirlpool. Though I am in still water away from its centre, I feel the whirl of the vortex sucking me slowly, irresistibly, inescapably into itself.

On sekiz ya??nda idik; dünyay?, hayat? sevmeye baÅŸlam??t?k, sevdiÄŸimiz bu ÅŸeylere kurÅŸun s?kmak zorunda kald?k. Patlayan ilk mermiler kalbimize sapland?. Çal??ma, çaba, ilerleme kap?lar? kapand? bize. Biz bunlara art?k inanm?yoruz, biz harbe inan?yoruz.

Then what exactly is the war for?" asks Tjaden. Kat shrugs his shoulders. "There must be some people to whom the war is useful.

Jeder Soldat bleibt nur durch tausend Zufälle am Leben. Und jeder Soldat glaubt und vertraut dem Zufall

He fell in October 1918, on a day that was so quiet and still on the whole front, that the army report confined itself to the single sentence: All quiet on the Western Front.

I think it is more of a kind of fever," says Albert. "No one in particular wants it, and then all at once there it is. We didn't want the war, the others say the same thing—and yet half the world is in it all the same.

While they continued to write and talk, we saw the wounded and dying. While they taught that duty to one's country is the greatest thing, we already knew that death-throes are stronger.

when I hear the word 'peace-time,' it goes to my head: and if it really came, I think I would do some unimaginable thing—something, you know, that it's worth having lain here in the muck for. But I can't even imagine anything. All I do know is that this business about professions and studies and salaries and so on—it makes me sick, it is and always was disgusting.

I tell you it is the vilest business to use horses in the war.

Ya no somos jóvenes. Ya no queremos conquistar el mundo. Somos fugitivos. Huimos de nosotros mismos. De nuestra vida. Teníamos dieciocho años y empezábamos a amar el mundo y la existencia; tuvimos que disparar contra eso. La primera granada que explosionó, lo hizo en nuestro corazón. Estamos al margen de la actividad, del esfuerzo, del progreso. Ya no creemos en nada de eso; creemos en la guerra.

Kantorek would say that we stood on the threshold of life. And so it would seem. We had as yet taken no root. The war swept us away. For the others, the older men, it is but an interruption. They are able to think beyond it. We, however, have been gripped by it and do not know what the end may be. We know only that in some strange and melancholy way we have become a waste land. All the same, we are not often sad.

From the kitchen was now issuing the smell of freshly brewed coffee and I heard Frida rumbling about. It was curious, but the smell of coffee made me more cheerful. I knew that from the war; it was never the big things that consoled one—it was always the unimportant, the little things.

we reach the zone where the front begins and become on the instant human animals.

Nie jeste?my ju? beztroscy; jeste?my straszliwie oboj?tni.

But the first death we saw shattered this belief. We had to recognize that our generation was more to be trusted than theirs. They surpassed us only in phrases and in cleverness. The first bombardment showed us our mistake, and under it the world as they had taught it to us broke in pieces.

Today we have done an hour's saluting drill because Tjaden failed to salute a major smartly enough. Kat can't get it out of his head. "You take it from me, we are losing the war because we can salute too well," he says. Kropp