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All quiet on the western front

Book by Erich Maria Remarque · 8 quotes · War, Wwi, Soldiers

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All quiet on the western front Quotes

“...and yet they are always absorbed in the things that go to make up their existence. Formerly, I lived in just the same way myself. But now I feel no contact here. They talk too much for me. They have worries, aims, desires, but I cannot comprehend. I often sit with one of them in the little BierGarten and try to explain to him that this is really the only thing, just to sit, quietly, like this. They understand, of course, they agree. They may even feel it so too. But only with words, only with words. Yes, that is it, they feel it, but only with half of themselves. The rest of their being is taken up with other things. They are so divided in themselves, that none feels it with his whole essence.”

“Dar poate că toate lucrurile la care cuget acum pornesc numai din melancolie și depresiune și se vor risipi de îndată ce mă voi afla sub plopii de acasă și voi asculta fâșâitul frunzișului lor. Nu se poate să fi dispărut toată acea dulceață care ne-a tulburat, tot ce a fost nebulos, uluitor, în devenire, miile de fețe ale viitorului, melodia din vise și cărți, foșnetul femeii și presimțirea ființei ei; nu se poate ca toate acestea să fi pierit în urletul bombardamentelor, în deznădejdea noastră și în bordelurile soldățești.”

“And that is why they let us down so badly. For us lads of eighteen they ought to have been mediators and guides to the world of maturity, the world of work, of duty, of culture, of progress - to the future. We often made fun of them and played jokes on them, but in our hearts we trusted them. The idea of authority, which they represented, was associated in our minds with a greater insight and a more humane wisdom. 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.”

“And in the night you realize, when you wake out of a dream, overcome and captivated by the enchantment of visions that crowd in on each other, just how fragile a handhold, how tenuous a boundary separates us from darkness - we are little flames, inadequately sheltered by thin walls from the tempest of dissolution and insensibility in which we flicker and are often all but extinguished. Then the muted sounds of battle surrounds us, and we creep into ourselves and stare wide-eyed into the night.”