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What was war, after all, but morale in helmets and jeeps? And what was morale if not one hundred million little conversations, the sum of which might leave men brave enough to advance?
“What inspired you to volunteer as a schoolmistress, Mary?” Pride would not let her reply that she hadn’t volunteered for anything in particular—that she had simply volunteered, assuming the issue would be decided favourably, as it always had been until now, by influences unseen.
Sometimes it was no longer altogether funny, this double act they played in which he was the boy to Alistair’s man of the world.
Describes Tom’s and Alistair’s relationship. A complimentary relationship with some tension between Alistair's cavalier sarcasm and Tom's constant rethinking almost every decision he makes.
I think the fear of going to war is less than the
shame of admitting that your country can get along quite well without whatever-it-is that you’ve been up to. In the end, of course, the conclusion of the man is the same as that of the military—that getting killed is the least one can do in the circumstances—except that the two parties reach the same conclusion by different routes.”
Alastair’s rationale for going to war. But he joins up because he does not think his career in art restoration is as valuable for the country during the war.
Alistair looked at his hands. “Well, the thing is, that someone shan’t be me.”
“You’re made to be an educator,
“Tom won’t sign up and I admire it. He . . . well, it’s just not him.”
Every wound Alistair drove into the wet sacking opened a corresponding rent in his morale.
Now each man alone in his sodden clothes weighed the warmth of the things
a hundred idiosyncrasies that might have originated in some long-forgotten instruction from the family, or arisen spontaneously from the coppery circuitry in Palmer’s internal machinery that gauged what was fitting. If Palmer were lost to them, along with the stock of method and lore of which he alone was the repository,
Tom was slightly infuriating,
it would be nice if he were more daring about the whole thing,
And here was what she wanted to know
here was what she wanted to know
She had tried to get them lost in the vapors
to decide that it was love,
worst thing—the worst, worst thing—was this having to decide.
the school
There was a lot of dust,
His efforts to disappear were to his credit, but unsupported by a pitiless physics that refused to let him vanish.
Marion Richardson script