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Quote by Guy Sajer

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The Forgotten Soldier

This novel delves into the harrowing realities of war, exploring themes of survival, resilience, and the human spirit. The protagonist's journey through the battlefield and his encounters with various factions highlight the complexities of war and the individual's struggle for survival amidst chaos. more

Author

Guy Sajer
Guy Sajer

Guy Sajer, born on January 13, 1927, is a renowned Swiss writer known for his works on war themes. His novel 'All Quiet on the Western Front' is particularly famous, based on his own experiences during World War II, particularly his service in the German Wehrmacht. more

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“They Say the World Will End Soon" They say the nuclear weapons—born of fear of the other— have become a curse, a plague, a scourge upon those who built them, even more than those they were meant to threaten… And I wonder: Will nuclear weapons bring about the end of the world? Or will it be humanity’s fear, complicity, and quiet submission? If what they say is true, before the world ends—and before I die— I wish to drink one last cup of cardamom-flavored tea, to taste one final fig, peach, or apricot, to inhale the scent of a quince, to dip one last piece of bread into Palestinian thyme and olive oil… Before the world ends, I want to smell pine needles, and breathe the scent of the season’s first rain after a long, dry summer. Before the world ends—and before I die— I long to read one more book from the thousands still waiting for me. I ask for one more spring to inhale bunches of Iraqi narcissus. And one more autumn to marvel at the dying leaves— defying death with beauty just before falling upon the indifferent ground. But most of all, my final wish before I die is that my death not be the end of the world…”

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“My favourite letter, of all the ones I have received. "Hello. I cried in a museum in front of a Gaugin painting - because somehow he had managed to paint a transparent pink dress. I could almost see the dress wafting in the hot breeze. I cried at the Louvre in front of Victory. She had no arms, but she was so tall. I cried (so hard I had to leave) at a little concern where a young man played solo cello Bach suites. It was in a weird little Methodist church and there were only about fifteen of us in the audience, the cellist alone on the stage. It was midday. I cried because (I guess) I was overcome with love. It was impossible for me to shake the sensation (mental, physical) that J.S. Bach was in the room with me, and I loved him. These three instances (and the others I am now recollecting) I think have something to do with loneliness… a kind of craving for the company of beauty. Others, I suppose, might say God. But this feels too simple a response. Robin Parks”

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