The road passed through a curtain of pine forest and came out on a flat, rolling snow field. In this field the sprawled or bunched bodies of Germans lay thick, like some dark shapeless vegetable.

In the last camp they all ate grass, until the authorities forbade them to pull it up. They were accustomed to having the fruits of their little communal gardens stolen by the guards, after they had done all the work; but at the last camp everything was stolen.

Thousand got away to other countries; thousands returned to Spain tempted by false promises of kindness. By the tens of thousands, these Spaniards died of neglect in the concentration camps.

I only knew about daily life. It was said, well, it isn't everybody's daily life. That is why I started.

I daresay I was the worst bed partner in five continents.

Gradually I came to realize that people will more readily swallow lies than truth, as if the taste of lies was homey, appetizing: a habit.

Why do people talk of the horrors of old age? It's great. I feel like a fine old car with the parts gradually wearing out, but I'm not complaining,... Those who find growing old terrible are people who haven't done what they wanted with their lives.

After the desperate years of their own war, after six years of repression inside Spain and six years of horror in exile, these people remain intact in spirit. They are armed with a transcendent faith; they have never won, and yet they have never accepted defeat.

I didn't write. I just wandered about.

If I practised sex, out of moral conviction, that was one thing; but to enjoy it... seemed a defeat.

It is alleged that half a million Spanish men, women and children fled to France after the Franco victory.

But now that the guerrilla fighting is over, the Spaniards are again men without a country or families or homes or work, though everyone appreciates very much what they did.

I see mysteries and complications wherever I look, and I have never met a steadily logical person.

Between his eyes, there were four lines, the marks of such misery as children should never feel. He spoke with that wonderful whisky voice that so many Spanish children have, and he was a tough and entire little boy.

And though various organizations in America and England collected money and sent food parcels to these refugees, nothing was ever received by the Spanish.

The road passed through a curtain of pine forest and came out on a flat, rolling snow field. In this field the sprawled or bunched bodies of Germans lay thick, like some dark shapeless vegetable.

I followed the war wherever I could reach it.

Citizenship is a tough occupation which obliges the citizen to make his own informed opinion and stand by it.

Furthermore, they were constantly informed by all the camp authorities that they had been abandoned by the world: they were beggars and lucky to receive the daily soup of starvation.

There were ten concentration camps in France from 1939 on.

It would be a bitter cosmic joke if we destroy ourselves due to atrophy of the imagination.

Then somebody suggested I should write about the war, and I said I didn't know anything about the war. I did not understand anything about it. I didn't see how I could write it.

I found out about the Spanish war because I was in Germany when it began.

Journalism at its best and most effective is education. Apparently people would not learn for themselves, nor from others.

In November you begin to know how long the winter will be.

On the road to equality there is no better place for blacks to detour around American values than in forgoing its example in the treatment of its women and the organization of its family.

If I'm out trailriding, I have a favorite motorcycle. Riding on the road, I've got a favorite. If I'm jumping, I have a favorite, and if I'm racing, I have a favorite.

No one is guaranteed happiness. You can pursue it, but if you happen to find success along the way on that road to happiness, Conservatives believe you should not be demonized or penalized for it.

My desk, most loyal friend thank you. You've been with me on every road I've taken. My scar and my protection.

I like to take pictures of lots of things: people-such as my nephews, my dogs, and just interesting objects that I see. For instance, I might take a picture of flowers by the side of the road, an old sign or a fence.

Strange - is it not? That of the myriads who Before us passed the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the road Which to discover we must travel too.

The way was long and weary, But gallantly they strode, A country lad and lassie, Along the heavy road.

One is sorry one could not have taken both branches of the road. But we were not allotted multiple selves.

At home in Paris I take a milk bath two times a week, but here on the road it is more difficult. I miss them.

On that road of the informer, it is always night. I cannot ever inform against anyone without feeling something die within me. I inform without pleasure, because it is necessary.

And since I just turned 32, I'm thinking about getting married, having a family, and that's very difficult to do on the road as a correspondent.

Most of the international community, most of the countries around the world, don't want any side, any party to take unilateral steps. They would like that all of us to stick to the road map.

There is no royal road to anything, one thing at a time, all things in succession. That which grows fast, withers as rapidly. That which grows slowly, endures.

With their souls of patent leather, they come down the road. Hunched and nocturnal, where they breathe they impose, silence of dark rubber, and fear of fine sand.

We toured that record for a year, which turned out to be the culmination of ten years of being constantly on the road. We were sick to death of touring.

Love or not, I wouldn't subject a wife to the road. It's punishment.

There's no road map on how to raise a family: it's always an enormous negotiation.

Show's going well. New season starting, we're on the road.

There is a set of religious, or rather moral, writings which teach that virtue is the certain road to happiness, and vice to misery in this world. A very wholesome and comfortable doctrine, and to which we have but one objection, namely, that it is not true.

The road to perseverance lies by doubt.

Skepticism is the first step on the road to philosophy.

If you have enthusiasm, you have a very dynamic, effective companion to travel with you on the road to Somewhere.

Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.

My other family is Fleetwood Mac. I don't need the money, but there's an emotional need for me to go on the road again. There's a love there; we're a band of brothers.