From the Bookshelf of Around the World in 80 Books…

Night again. The insects are loud. The moths are killing themselves on the lamp. Two

Night again. The insects are loud. The moths are killing themselves on the lamp. Two hours ago, I sat on the veranda, looking out at the dusk, filled with envy for each living entity - bird, bug, blossom, reptile, tree, and vine - that doesn't bear the burden of the knowledge of good and evil. The abyss is full of reality. The abyss experiences itself. The abyss is alive.

" ... it's a covert World War III. It's Armegeddon, by proxy. It's a contest between good and evil, and it's true ground is the heart of every human. I'm gonna transgress outside the line a little bit now ... I'm gonna tell you, Skip: sometimes I wonder if it isn't a goddamned Alamo. This is a fallen world. Every time we turn around there's somebody else going Red."

"But it's not just a contest between good and evil," Skip said. "It's between 'nuts' and 'not nuts.' All we have to do is hang on until Communism collapses under the weight of its own economic silliness, the weight of its own insanity."

"The Commies may be out of their minds," the Colonel said. "But they aren't irrational. They believe in central command, and in the unthinkable sacrifice. ..."

In South Vietnam, I thought I'd been sidelined, removed to a place where I could think about the war. But you can't be sidelined in a war, and in a war, you mustn't think. You mustn't ever think. War is action, or death. War is action, or cowardice. War is action, or treachery. War is action, or desertion. Do you get the idea here? War is action. Thought leads to treason.