We are little flames poorly sheltered by frail walls

We are little flames poorly sheltered by frail walls against the storm of dissolution and madness, in which we flicker and sometimes almost go out... we creep in upon ourselves and with big eyes stare into the night... and thus we wait for morning.

Erich Maria Remarque, "All Quiet On The Western Front"

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From books  |  Night  |  Morning  |  Madness

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