ERICH MARIA REMARQUE was a famous novelist from Germany whose genre contained horrors of war. He started with many poems and essays until his famous book All Quiet on the Western Front was given great remarks and loved by people affected far and wide, During Nazi era, due to Nazi propaganda all his works were burnt. They poisoned his existence as a German for converting surname ‘REAMRK’ to ‘Remarque’ and questioned his catholic faith. He was accused falsely for not serving in World War 1. His family was also arrested.
Here are some most relevant Erich Maria Remarque quotes:
“Love can’t stand explanations, it requires action.“
If a woman belongs to another man, she is five times more desirable than the one you can easily have.
Love wants to be eternal, this is the source of the torture it causes us
Only he, who knows what loneliness is, knows the true value of meeting with his beloved
A woman becomes smarter when she is in love, whereas a man simply loses his mind
I have always thought a woman should not tell a man she is in love with him. Her shining and happy eyes should bear witness to that
No one can become stranger than the person you once loved
I thought what a damned business it was to love a woman and yet to be poor at the same time.
Nothings lost yet, I said, you only lose someone until he is dead.
Never explain anything to women. Instead, take action. Always act.
I am young, I am twenty years old; yet I know nothing of life but despair, death, fear, and fatuous superficiality cast over an abyss of sorrow. I see how peoples are set against one another, and in silence, unknowingly, foolishly, obediently, innocently slay one another.
Life did not intend to make us perfect. Whoever is perfect belongs in a museum.
We are not youth any longer. We don’t want to take the world by storm. We are fleeing. We fly from ourselves. From our life. We were eighteen and had begun to love life and the world; and we had to shoot it to pieces
I did not want to think so much about her. I wanted to take her as an unexpected, delightful gift, that had come and would go again — nothing more. I meant not to give room to the thought that it could ever be more. I knew too well that all love has the desire for eternity and that therein lies its eternal torment. Nothing lasts. Nothing
We are forlorn like children, and experienced like old men, we are crude and sorrowful and superficial—I believe we are lost.