In wartime, everyone's birthday turns into a commemoration of something so sad.

As the Nobel laureate Elie Wiesel warned years ago, to forget a holocaust is to kill twice.

Just when you think this war has taken everything you loved, you meet someone and realize that somehow you still have more to give.

A not-too-distant explosion shakes the house, the windows rattle in their sockets, and in the next room the class of 1964 wakes up and lets out a yell or two. Each time this happens I find myself thinking, "Is it possible that human beings can continue with this lunacy very much longer?" You know the answer, of course.

No time to spare: the expression assumed its full significance, as so many expressions do in wartime.

People say you should give until it hurts. I say you should give until it stops hurting. Know what I mean?