Perfume River Nights Quotes

“He cried for all that he had done, for what he'd become, and for his belief in lies. That there was glory in killing and that you could kill without inflicting self-harm were two of the biggest lies.”
― Michael P. Maurer, Perfume River Nights

“How'd you get the name Singer?"

"Same as you. One of the old guys gave it to me my first day with the company. Guy named Shooter, killed the day before you showed up."

"I've never heard you sing."

"Nothing to sing about anymore.”
― Michael P. Maurer, Perfume River Nights

“There was no clarity, only the power of his rifle and the proximity of death and his involvement in it all. He didn't know who he was anymore. Maybe he never had. So much had changed in so short a time. He had survived so much yet had so far to go. Would he ever make it home? Who would he be if he did? So many guys he cared about were gone. It was up to him to give their deaths meaning.”
― Michael P. Maurer, Perfume River Nights

“He stopped loving her a long time ago. Maybe after May fifth, when he had stopped loving himself.

There was so little left to love anymore. He had loved some of the guys around him but they were gone now. He loved his rifle. Beyond that, there was no love. Maybe he had to let go of love to do these things.”
― Michael P. Maurer, Perfume River Nights

“A slight, momentary breeze rustled the leaves at his back and he turned quickly, expecting someone to be there. He watched a leaf twist, then hang still. The smell of cordite mixed with the coppery smell of blood rose off the vegetation or up from the earth, and for a moment he could smell the battle as strongly as he had yesterday, as though gunsmoke hung over the battlefield like a permanent veil.”
― Michael P. Maurer, Perfume River Nights

“This war ain't worth losing your head over." A deep rumble came from Trip's chest and his mouth curved up, not quite a smile.

Singer wasn't sure who Trip was talking to and was afraid to ask. Maybe Trip was just trying to remind himself, as Singer had been thinking there was nothing here worth dying for. Nothing except each other. Was that why these men had died? Was anything different for them?”
― Michael P. Maurer, Perfume River Nights

“A wave of death rolled over him and only his anger kept him afloat. His survival burned like a raw wound.”
― Michael P. Maurer, Perfume River Nights

“Even knowing where they were, he felt disoriented. Maybe it wasn't the landscape but himself he was no longer familiar with.”
― Michael P. Maurer, Perfume River Nights