"...and without love, one is a dead man on furlough, nothing but a scrap of paper with a few dates and a chance name on it, and we as well die.

My healthy blood was powerless to cure the sick blood of my beloved. That was beyond understanding. And so is death.
~ Erich Maria Remarque ~












My healthy blood was powerless to cure the sick blood of my beloved. That was beyond understanding. ...
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"A neat little apartment with a neat little bourgeois life. A neat little security on the edge of the abyss. Do you really see that?
"Может быть, у смерти совсем другое имя. Мы ведь видим ее всегда только с одной стороны. Может быть, смерть - это совершенная любовь между нами и Богом...
"What comfort there is in the skin of someone you love!