Explore "Road Back" by Erich Maria Remarque on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I was in the wood the whole day. Weary now, I have turned in at a little country inn and taken a room for the night. The bed is already open, but I do not want to sleep yet. I sit down in the window and listen to the stirrings of the spring night.
Shadows flit about among the trees and up from the woods come cries, as though wounded were lying there. I look quietly and composedly out into the darkness, for I am afraid of the past no longer. I look into its quenched eyes without flinching. I even go out to meet it, I send my thoughts back into the dugouts, and shell-holes-but when they return they bring back neither fear nor horror with them, but only strength and will.