In Me The Tiger Sniffs The Rose.

And When The War Is Done And Youth Stone Dead, I'd Toddle Safely Home And Die--in Bed.

I Didn't Want To Die - Not Before I'd Finished Reading The Return Of The Native Anyhow.

I Believe That The Purpose For Which I And My Fellow Soldiers Entered Upon This War Should Have Been So Clearly Stated As To Have Made It Impossible To Change Them, And That, Had This Been Done, The Objects Which Actuated Us Would Now Be Attainable By Negotiation.

Soldiers Are Dreamers; When The Guns Begin They Think Of Firelit Homes, Clean Beds, And Wives.

The Fact Is That Five Years Ago I Was, As Near As Possible, A Different Person To What I Am Tonight. I, As I Am Now, Didn't Exist At All. Will The Same Thing Happen In The Next Five Years? I Hope So.