Perhaps twenty minutes later he realized she had gone to sleep. He quietly removed his now stiff arm, then turned away. It must have woken her a little After a moment he felt her turn as well and lay a hand, instinctively, like a sleeping wife, across his hips; as if, in some dream, he was the one who escaped.

Love is the mistery between two people, not the identity. We were at the opposite poles of humanity. Lily was humanity bound to duty, unable to choose, suffering, at the mercy of social ideals.Humanity both crucified and marching towards the cross. And I was free, I was Peter three times to renounce -- determined to survive, whatever the cost.

Men love war because it allows them to look serious. Because it is the one thing that stops women laughing at them.