Goodnight From Paris

by Jane Healey

Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live. —Dorothy Thompson, American journalist

This crisis is not a Jewish crisis. It is a human crisis . . . We who are not Jews must speak, speak our sorrow and indignation and disgust in so many voices that they will be heard.’”

‘peace’ is not simply avoiding conflict at all costs.

every woman just wanted someone who believed in them, who shared in their joys and supported them in their sorrows.

it’s only when we are no longer afraid that we truly begin to live.

Nobody smiles. Nobody sings. . . . The whistle blows. The officer holds his girl’s cheek to his. The soldier kisses his girl on the mouth. Just once more! Nobody watches anyone else. No one pretends. No one is pretending anything. “Kill a Boche for me, darling.” Didn’t they say that in the last war? No one says a word about Boche or killing. Not a word. Not a flag. Not a salute . . . not an “au revoir.” They pull apart and the men crowd into the cars . . . They look through open windows—a thousand different faces, not one like another, not one common expression, not one replaceable face . . . The train begins to move. The men wave. The women wave and, weeping, smile. No one calls “Viva la France!” There goes France.

“We can’t blame God for the evil of men,”

If I live to be an old woman, when people ask me about this time, I want to say I did something that mattered, not that I did nothing because I was afraid.”

“This war, for most, comes down to protecting those you love. Can I keep them safe from harm? That is all that has mattered to me.