We were all pacific to the point of stupidity--little saints, in fact.

No one in France spoke any longer of revenge, nobody wished it, nobody thought of as much as getting ready for war.

We had all of us in our hearts only dreams of universal happiness and progress, the while Germany secretly prepared everything for hurling herself on us.

"But," he added, he also carried away, "she'll get it in the neck, and that's all about it!" The desire for glory was making its way, and one cloudily imagines Napoleon reborn.
In these days, only the mornings and evenings returned as usual, everything else was upside down, and seemed temporary.

The workers moved and talked in a desert of idleness, and one saw invisible changes in the scenery of our valley and the cavity of our sky.
We saw the Cuirassiers of the garrison go away in the evening.