Les hommes vieillissent, mais ne mûrissent pas. - Alphonse Daudet

Pain is always new to the sufferer, but loses its originality for those around him.

L'homme du Midi ne ment pas, il se trompe. Il ne dit pas toujours la vérité, mais il croit la dire.

It is clever the way death reaps and gathers its harvests, but what somber harvests. Whole generations do not fall at once; that would be too sad, too visible. But bit by bit. The meadow is attacked on several sides at the same time. One day, one will go; the other, some time after; one must reflect, glance about oneself to notice the empty spaces, the vast contemporary killing.