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Erich Maria Remarque

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“Let the months and years come, they can take nothing from me, they can take nothing more. I am so alone, and so without hope that I can confront them without fear. The life that has borne me through these years is still in my hands and my eyes. Whether I have subdued it, I know not. But so long as it is there it will seek its own way out, heedless of the will that is within me." -All Quiet On The Western Front, Chapter 12”

KnowsWayYearsLongStillsI CanHandsEyeFrontsMonthsQuietWesternChaptersWithout Hope
Author:Erich Maria Remarque
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“And even if these scenes from our youth were given back to us we would hardly know what to do. The tender, secret influence that passed from them into us could not rise again. We might be amongst them and move in them; we might remember and love them and be stirred by the sight of them. But it would be like gazing at the photograph of a dead comrade; those are his features, it is his face, and the days we spent together take on a mournful life in the memory; but the man himself it is not.”

IfsKnowsMenMightWould BeTogetherRememberFacesMovingGivenMemoriesSecretInfluenceYouthSceneAnd LoveSightPhotographFeaturesComradeGazing
Author:Erich Maria Remarque
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“One often feels as though something had happened before, I remember. It comes quite close to you and stands there and you know it was just this way once before, exactly so; for an instant you almost know how it must go on, but then it disappears as you try to lay hold of it like smoke or a dead memory. "We could never remember, Isabelle," I say. "It's like the rain. That has also become one, out of two gasses, oxygen and hydrogen, which no longer remember they were once gasses. Now they are only rain and have no memory of an earlier time.”

KnowsWayFeelsTryingTwoRememberMemoriesKnow HowHappenedGoes OnRainLaysDisappearSmokeInstantOxygenHydrogenNo Memory
Author:Erich Maria Remarque
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“The storm lashes us, out of the confusion of grey and yellow the hail of splinters whips forth the childlike cries of the wounded, and in the night shattered life groans painfully into silence. Our hands are earth, our bodies clay and our eyes pools of rain. We do not know whether we are still alive.”

KnowsStillsWarBodyHandsEyeEarthNightSilenceAliveCryRainStormConfusionYellowPoolWoundedGreyClayShatteredWhipsChildlikeHailGreat WarLashesSplinters
Book:All Quiet on the Western Front: A Novel
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“The room shall speak, it must catch me up and hold me, I want to feel that I belong here, I want to hearken and know when I go back to the front line that the war will sink down, be drowned utterly in the great home-coming tide, know that it will then be past for ever, and not gnaw us continually, that it will have none but an outward power over us...Nothing stirs; listless and wretched, like a condemned man, I sit there and the past withdraws itself. And at the same time I fear to importune it too much, because I do not know what might happen then. I am a soldier, I must cling to that.”

KnowsMenWantFeelsWarHomeMightHappensPastSpeakLinesRoomsToo MuchFrontsSoldierTidesWretchedHold MeCatch Me
Author:Erich Maria Remarque
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