There is no reason for him to be in a strange land, the grim reaper holding him close, saying, “Yes, today is the day,” or “No, not yet.

I’m trying to tell him everything will be all right, but how can I say it with a straight face? My son’s no idiot. He knows when I’m lying. The medicine won’t taste bad.The bath...

If I’m in this war, too, then I should be upset. You know I’m not the type to think collecting bacon grease and scrap metal will keep anyone from dying. How about you give me...

That is my job, right? To comfort him. To keep the portrait of what he left behind intact. Isn’t that a woman’s duty during wartime?

To put it bluntly, he could die. Any moment. But so could Robert and Sal and Toby. At least I am here with him. He’s not alone. Our other boys? They are alone out there...

When you feel weak in spirit, think about the agreements you made with yourself about how to live an honourable life. We all have them, but unfortunately the contracts are often written in invisible ink...

This war. It’s stolen our peace. It’s stolen our tomorrows as well as our yesterdays.

Charlie started crying, in the convulsive, soundless way that men do. “Don’t you understand,” he said after composing himself, “that’s a funeral dirge for the first wave.” We all thought about that, the many lives...

Why don’t you go to bed for a bit, Glory?” suggested Robert. “It’s been a hell of a war.”It’s been a hell of a war, he said. I’ll never forget it.

New ideas leave the old ones shaking in their shoes, don’t they?