The More One Is Hated,

When You're Not Used To Comfort And Good Things To Eat, You're Intoxicated By Them In No Time. Truth's Only Too Pleased To Leave You. Very Little Is Ever Needed For Truth To Let Go Of You. And After All, You're Not Really Very Keen To Keep Hold Of It.

Lots Of Men Are Like That, Their Artistic Leanings Never Go Beyond A Weakness For Shapely Thighs.

Maybe I'd Never See Him Again... Maybe He'd Gone For Good... Swallowed Up, Body And Soul, In The Kind Of Stories You Hear About... Ah, It's An Awful Thing... And Being Young Doesn't Help Any... When You Notice For The First Time... The Way You Lose People As You Go Along ... The Buddies You'll Never See Again... Never Again... When You Notice That They've Disappeared Like Dreams... That It's All Over... Finished... That You Too Will Get Lost Someday... A Long Way Off But Inevitably... In The Awful Torrent Of Things And People... Of The Days And Shapes... That Pass... That Never Stop.

I'd Seen Too Many Troubling Things To Be Easy In My Mind. I Knew Too Much And Not Enough. I'd Better Go Out, I Said To Myself, I'd Better Go Out Again.

The Poetry Of Heroism Appeals Irresistibly To Those Who Don't Go To A War, And Even More To Those Whom The War Is Making Enormously Wealthy. It's Always So.