Life has been cut in two by the chasm of war.

What is ahead I don't know--but it can't be a bit like the past.

I wonder if those of us who have lived half our lives in the old world will ever feel wholly at home in the new." "Have you noticed," asked Miss Oliver, glancing up from her book, "how everything written before the war seems so far away now, too?
One feels as if one was reading something as ancient as the Iliad.

This poem of Wordsworth's--the Senior class have it in their entrance work--I've been glancing over it.

Its classic calm and repose and the beauty of the lines seem to belong to another planet, and to have as little to do with the present world-welter as the evening star." "The only thing that I find much comfort in reading nowadays is the Bible," remarked Susan, whisking her biscuits into the oven.