I am in the middle of reading All Quiet on The Western Front as research/inspiration for the manuscript piece I plan on handing in in May, and I have come across the passage that encapsulates the entirety of this novel and World War I.
"But you were only an idea to me before, an abstraction that lived in my mind and called forth its appropriate response. It was that abstraction I stabbed. But now, for the first time, I see you are a man like me. I thought of your hand-grenades, of your bayonet, of your rifle; now I see your wife and your face and our fellowship. Forgive me, comrade. We always see it too late."
—Erich Maria Remarque (translated by A.W. Wheen)
