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Quote by Pat Barker

Work

The Ghost Road

The Ghost Road is a profound literary work that delves into the harrowing experiences of soldiers during World War I. The narrative focuses on the psychological and physical consequences faced by the men in the trenches, offering a haunting portrayal of the human cost of war. more

Author

Pat Barker
Pat Barker

Pat Barker is a renowned British author, born on May 8, 1943. Her works are known for their depiction of war and its impact on individuals and society, with her 'Regeneration' trilogy being particularly notable. Barker's writing style is delicate and has won her a wide readership. more

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“A voice had become audible, a note had been struck, more true, more thrilling, more able to do justice to the nobility of our youth in arms engaged in this present war, than any other—more able to express their thoughts of self-surrender, and with a power to carry comfort to those who watched them so intently from afar. The voice has been swiftly stilled. Only the echoes and the memory remain; but they will linger. He expected to die; he was willing to die for the dear England whose beauty and majesty he knew; and he advanced towards the brink in perfect serenity, with absolute conviction of the rightness of his country's cause, and a heart devoid of hate for fellow-men. ...he was all that one would wish England's noblest sons to be in days when no sacrifice but the most precious is acceptable, and the most precious is that which is most freely proffered.”

“Giants in Jeans Sonnet 47 Walk up to death, And smile at your doom. At the sight of your conviction, Stars will begin to bloom. Tread bravely on misery, Defy anything that causes weakness. At the sound of your courageous footsteps, The soil will regain its fragrance. Embolden your chest o mighty victor, Against a hailstorm of ridicule. Even the slight sound of your whisper, Will give chills to the cruel. Care for society, not its opinion of you. Sacrifice all image and status, and stand up anew.”

“Immanuelle stared at him—this man who’d used his lies to make himself a martyr. He thought he was the one who made the true sacrifice, but he couldn’t be more wrong. It was not the Prophet who bore Bethel, bound to his back like a millstone. It was all of the innocent girls and women—like Miriam and Leah—who suffered and died at the hands of men who exploited them. They were Bethel’s sacrifice. They were the bones upon which the Church was built. Their pain was the great shame of the Father’s faith, and all of Bethel shared in it. Men like the Prophet, who lurked and lusted after the innocent, who found joy in their pain, who brutalized and broke them down until they were nothing, exploiting those they were meant to protect. The Church, which not only excused and forgave the sins of its leaders but enabled them: with the Protocol and the market stocks, with muzzles and lashings and twisted Scriptures. It was the whole of them, the heart of Bethel itself, that made certain every woman who lived behind its gate had only two choices: resignation, or ruin. No more, Immanuelle thought. No more punishments or Protocols. No more muzzles or contrition. No more pyres or gutting blades. No more girls beaten or broken silent. No more brides in white gowns lying like lambs on the altar for slaughter. She would see an end to all of it.”