God listens and He responds. Sometimes His reply could be 'I'm with you. Do not be afraid.' Sadly, many times we withdrew long before receiving the blessing He has for us, what He wants to show us; or we get disappointed because we don't recognize His answer for not being what we expected.
Yilda B. Rivera
Bruno withdrew from the field of history more resolutely than Vigo; that is why I prefer the former's retrospect but the latter's prospect. As an anarch, I am determined to go along with nothing, ultimately take nothing seriously - at least not nihilistically, but rather as a border guard in no man's land, who sharpens his eyes and ears between the tides.
... I never understood until the past months why the Master so often withdrew alone into the wilderness. There is not only food and medicine for one's body; there is also healing for the heart and strength for the soul in nature. One gets very close to God... in these temples of God's own building.
Harold Bell Wright
I grew up in a family that despised displays of strong emotion, rage in particular. We stewed. We sulked. When arguments did occur, they were full-scale conniptions, and we regarded them as family failings. Afterward, we withdrew from one another and tried our best to strike the event from our memories.
I missed him desperately, even though he'd said he hated me, even though his anger-the rampage at his house, the X through his yearbook page, the cruel way he withdrew from everyone-scared me. I didn't care if he wasn't my boyfriend, or even my friend. He was my Jonah. I felt more alone without him now than I'd ever felt before I met him. My life had a hole in it.
Coming at twenty to his father's house, which was a very sink of filthy debauchery, he, chaste and pure as he was, simply withdrew in silence when to look on was unbearable, but without the slightest sign of contempt or condemnation. His father, who had once been in a dependent position, and so was sensitive and ready to take offense, met him at first with distrust and sullenness.
Instead of pressing, with the foremost of the crowd, into the palace of Constantinople, Libanius calmly expected his arrival at Antioch; withdrew from court on the first symptoms of coldness and indifference; required a formal invitation for each visit; and taught his sovereign an important lesson, that he might command the obedience of a subject, but that he must deserve the attachment of a friend.
...All patients reported a loss of craving for drugs while taking large doses of Vitamin C, during detoxification. Of the first 30 carefully monitored heroin addicts, 30 successfully withdrew from their addiction with no more than minor discomfort. None of the 30 were reported to have relapsed...Similar results have been reported by other doctors...:Archie Kalokerinos...
During Richard Nixon's first term, when I served as secretary of defense, we withdrew U.S. forces from Vietnam while building up the South's ability to defend itself. The result was a success - until Congress snatched defeat from the jaws of victory by cutting off funding for our ally in 1975. Washington should follow a similar strategy now, but this time finish the job properly.
But Joash king of Judah took all the sacred objects dedicated by his fathers--Jehoshaphat, Jehoram and Ahaziah, the kings of Judah--and the gifts he himself had dedicated and all the gold found in the treasuries of the temple of the LORD and of the royal palace, and he sent them to Hazael king of Aram, who then withdrew from Jerusalem.
2 Kings 12:18
Nichelle Nichols had decided leave the original Star Trek series after the first season. Fed up with racist harassment and limitation, culminating with her learning that studio executives were withholding her fan mail, she submitted her resignation. She withdrew it when Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. convinced her that her role was too important a cultural breakthrough to leave.
Something like panic struck at Hurlow. Moffat's calm confession of fear withdrew the prop upon which he had leaned. Down there, among the motionless shadows, lurked invisible things, things that were nameless, shapeless and malignant; things which could see without being seen. One of the long lost terrors of childhood returned to him, and like a child he put his hand into Moffat's.
In 1995, Russia virtually gave Chechnya de facto statehood and independence even though, de jure, it didn't recognize Chechnya as an independent state. And I would like to emphasize strongly that Russia withdrew all of its troops, we moved the prosecutors, we moved all the police, dismantled all the courts, completely, 100 percent.
I explained to him - as I withdrew the cup, ripped open the sachet and dunked the tea bag - that tea was an infusion, which meant that it was vital for the water to be actually boiling when it came into contact with the leaves. He looked at me furiously... I had behaved like this many times before: taking Canute's stance in the path of the great surge of ill-brewed tepid tea that was inundating England.
As disciples of Christ, we need to feel genuine charity for one another. As we do, new light will come into our own lives. This charity is essential in missionary work, but we must never allow ourselves to treat our neighbors only as potential converts. We have had the sad experience of seeing members of the Church who attempted to convert their neighbors and friends and, when they did not respond, withdrew their friendship and neighborliness. We must not be so anxious to share the gospel that we become insensitive to the feelings of others.
M. Russell Ballard
When Alex left for Alaska," Franz remembers, "I prayed. I asked God to keep his finger on the shoulder of that one; I told him that boy was special. But he let Alex die. So on December 26, when I learned what happened, I renounced the Lord. I withdrew my church membership and became an atheist. I decided I couldn't believe in a God who would let something that terrible happen to a boy like Alex.
When Alex left for Alaska, " Franz remembers, "I prayed. I asked God to keep his finger on the shoulder of that one; I told him that boy was special. But he let Alex die. So on December 26, when I learned what happened, I renounced the Lord. I withdrew my church membership and became an atheist. I decided I couldn't believe in a God who would let something that terrible happen to a boy like Alex.
I withdrew a small card from the pouch. The front of it was filled with lines of elegant, hand-lettered script. "What does it say?" Dad asked, leaning forward. "The Four Remembers of Life, " I read. "Number one: Remember, you are unique. Number two: Remember, there is purpose to your life. Number three: Remember you are free to choose what you are and what you become. And number four: Remember, you are not alone.
Gerald N. Lund
When the power of the shift rips the human body apart and transforms it into its new shape, there lives a second, less than a second, a mere shimmer of time when the mind is without a home, no body to call its own. Existence is painless in there, nothing but formlessness beyond understanding. A secret place, it contains nothing but the essence of self, a lost self. In the fire of pain, Colton found a whisper of that place, its ghost, its echo, and from that echo he withdrew a thread of deepest black.
When he reached his own room again, he found Khloe curled up on his bed, asleep. He stood over her, watching her sleep peacefully for a few moments before taking a deep breath and moving to the other side of the bed. He sat down on top of the covers next to her and watched the rise and fall of her chest as she slept. He withdrew a leather bond journal from the nightstand drawer and tried to push Hecate's words from his mind. Khloe is yours to deal with.
Having placed in my mouth sufficient bread for three minutes' chewing, I withdrew my powers of sensual perception and retired into the privacy of my mind, my eyes and face assuming a vacant and preoccupied expression. I reflected on the subject of my spare-time literary activities. One Beginning and one ending for a book was a thing I did not agree with. A good book may have three openings entirely dissimilar and inter-related only in the prescience of the author, or for that matter one hundred times as many endings.
There was an infinitesimal pause while he watched her face, as though he half expected her to recognise it, before he went on, 'My friends call me Thorn, ' and gave her a smile of such devastating charm that she blinked. Her hand clasped in his, her senses zinging from his touch and that stunning smile, she stared into his dark, handsome face until, realising that she was gawking at him like some overgrown schoolgirl, she withdrew her hand and asked quickly, 'What do your enemies call you?
What say you, Luxa?" said Vikus. "What can I say, Vikus? Can I return to our people and tell them I withdrew from the quest when our survival hangs in the balance?" said Luxa bitterly. "Of course you cannot, Luxa. This is why he times it so," said Henry. "You could choose to - " started Vikus. "I could choose! I could choose!" retorted Luxa. " Do not offer me a choice when you know none exits!" She and Henry turned their backs on Vikus.
I was a young, and had deep loves, and my heart would overflow with enthusiasm! And I mingled with the crowd, I mixed with my fellow men, speaking my thought out loud! And they gaped back at me, without understanding. And I withdrew from them, and they said to me: Arrogant one! And from time to time in my solitude, my loves, my repressed enthusiasms broke out into odes, conversation; and my companions laughed and used to point at me as a madman. So I suffered, doubted, cursed, and no one believed me sincere. It's as if this heart, once so full of strength and love were annihilated.
Comte de Lautreamont
Darren played with the ice cream before raising a spoonful to his mouth. I watched him lick it before he wrapped his lips around the spoon, closing his eyelids and savoring the flavor on his tongue. He slowly withdrew the spoon from his mouth and opened his eyes. He smiled coyly at my rapt attention. I just wanted to reach across the table, grab a fistful of his hair and lick the ice cream right out of his mouth.
...as the slow sea sucked at the shore and then withdrew, leaving the strip of seaweed bare and the shingle churned, the sea birds raced and ran upon the beaches. Then that same impulse to flight seized upon them too. Crying, whistling, calling, they skimmed the placid sea and left the shore. Make haste, make speed, hurry and begone; yet where, and to what purpose? The restless urge of autumn, unsatisfying, sad, had put a spell upon them and they must flock, and wheel, and cry; they must spill themselves of motion before winter came.
Daphne du Maurier
as the slow sea sucked at the shore and then withdrew, leaving the strip of seaweed bare and the shingle churned, the sea birds raced and ran upon the beaches. Then that same impulse to flight seized upon them too. Crying, whistling, calling, they skimmed the placid sea and left the shore. Make haste, make speed, hurry and begone; yet where, and to what purpose? The restless urge of autumn, unsatisfying, sad, had put a spell upon them and they must flock, and wheel, and cry; they must spill themselves of motion before winter came.
Daphne du Maurier
As we were about to cross the road, Davin suddenly grabbed my wrist and held me back a moment; a car peeled out of the driveway and roared past us. 'Geez, ' I gasped, and then, glancing at him curiously, I added, 'Thanks.' He didn't say anything, but slowly released my wrist. Before he completely withdrew, I took his hand and interlaced my fingers through his. He looked at me, his lips parted in surprise, but then he smiled shyly and gave my hand a squeeze as we kept walking. It gave me a feeling of nervous flutters in the best way. As we walked up to the doors, Jill and Laurel came bursting out the exit.
Superfluity was the only relationship I could establish between these trees, these hedges, these paths. Vainly I strove to compute the number of the chestnut trees, or their distance from the Velleda, or their height as compared with that of the plane trees; each of them escaped from the pattern I made for it, overflowed from it or withdrew. And I too among them, vile, languorous, obscene, chewing the cud of my thoughts, I too was superfluous. [I is you or I or anyone.] Luckily I did not feel it, I only understood it, but I felt uncomfortable because I was afraid of feeling it... I thought vaguely of doing away with myself, to do away with at least one of these superfluous existences. But my death - my corpse, my blood poured out on this gravel, among these plants, in this smiling garden - would have been superfluous as well. I was superfluous to all eternity.
Bertie's gaze fell there and his blue eyes widened. 'Deuce take you, Jess, ' he said crossly. 'Can't a fellow trust you for a moment? How many times do I have to tell you to leave my friends alone?' Miss Trent coolly withdrew her hand. Trent gave Dain an apologetic look. 'Don't pay it any mind, Dain. She does that to all the chaps. I don't know why she does it, when she don't want 'em. Just like them fool cats of Aunt Louisa's. Go to all the bother of catching a mouse, and then the confounded things won't eat 'em. Just leave the corpses lying about for someone else to pick up.' Miss Trent's lips quivered.
She released her weapon with one hand, twisted around, and kissed him. It was the deepest she had ever kissed him. Blood filled his face, and he went limp at the touch of her lips. Namine took the moment of dropped defense to put Zarrys flat on his back with a long blade at his throat before he even knew what was happening. As he looked up the long shaft to her smiling face, he gave an embarrassed chuckle. Fallon and Kirah were laughing behind her. "Me, " Namine said proudly. Then she withdrew the weapon and helped Zarrys back to his feet. Cheeks burning, Zarrys returned his sword to its sheath. "That's cheating.
The engineer's ready capitulation, however, did not hide from the poet's mother the sad realization that the adventure into which she had plunged so impulsively-and which had seemed so intoxicatingly beautiful-had no turned out to be the great, mutually fulfilling love she was convinced she had a full right to expect. Her father was the owner of two prosperous Prague pharmacies, and her morality was based on strict give-and-take. For her part, she had invested everything in love (she had even been willing to sacrifice her parents and their peaceful existence); in turn, she had expected her partner to invest an equal amount of capital of feelings in the common account. To redress the imbalance, she gradually withdrew her emotional deposit and after the wedding presented a proud, severe face to her husband.
In his forty-third year William Stoner learned what others, much younger, had learned before him: that the person one loves at first is not the person one loves at last, and that love is not an end but a process through which one person attempts to know another. They were both very shy, and they knew each other slowly, tentatively; they came close and drew apart, they touched and withdrew, neither wishing to impose upon the other more than might be welcomed. Day by day the layers of reserve that protected them dropped away, so that at last they were like many who are extraordinarily shy, each open to the other, unprotected, perfectly and unselfconsciously at ease. Nearly every afternoon, when his classes were over, he came to her apartment. They made love, and talked, and made love again, like children who did not think of tiring at their play. The spring days lengthened, and they looked forward to the summer.
MINDING HIS OWN BUSINESS RIDING SUBWAY TRAINS GOT RIPPED OFF TWICE AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN AGAIN WITHDREW A HUNDRED DOLLARS BOUGHT HIMSELF A PIECE CAN'T DEPEND ON ANYONE HE'S HIS OWN POLICE FOURTEENTH STREET STATION THIS COULD BE THE NIGHT DECEMBER, HE'S HEAVILY SWEATING COLLAR FEELS TOO TIGHT TIRED OF BEING PREYED UPON BY THE SCUM OF THE EARTH TONITE HE'LL BE THE PREDATOR SOMEONE'S GONNA GET HURT WALKED INTO AN EMPTY CAR FOUND HIMSELF A SEAT FIVE LOW LIVES WAITING THERE WAITING FOR FRESH MEAT ONE BY ONE SURROUNDED HIM TRAPPED HIM BY THE DOOR FINGER ON THE TRIGGER GOT MORE THAN THEY ASKED FOR A SPLIT SECOND WITHOUT THINKING HOT GUN IN HIS HAND FOUR SHOTS OF BLOOD BERNIE GETS HIS MAN NOW HE STANDS TRIAL A CRIMINAL HE'S TOLD BUT HE GOT THE SATISFACTION OF SHOOTING HIS LOAD
The next morning, when Thomasin withdrew the curtains of her bedroom window, there stood the Maypole in the middle of the greek, its top cutting into the sky. It had sprung up in the night. or rather early morning, like Jack's bean-stalk. She opened the casement to get a better view of the garlands and posies that adored it. The sweet perfume of the flowers had already spread into the surrounding air, which being free from every taint, conducted to her lips a full measure of the fragrance received from the spire of blossom in its midst. At the top of the pole were crossed hoops decked with small flowers; beneath these came a milk-white zone of Maybloom;then a zone of bluebells, then of cowslips, then of lilacs, then of ragged-rosins, daffodils and so on, till the lowest stage was reached.Thomasin noticed all these, and was delighted that the May revel was to be so near.
DULLARD, n. A member of the reigning dynasty in letters and life. The Dullards came in with Adam, and being both numerous and sturdy have overrun the habitable world. The secret of their power is their insensibility to blows; tickle them with a bludgeon and they laugh with a platitude. The Dullards came originally from Boeotia, whence they were driven by stress of starvation, their dullness having blighted the crops. For some centuries they infested Philistia, and many of them are called Philistines to this day. In the turbulent times of the Crusades they withdrew thence and gradually overspread all Europe, occupying most of the high places in politics, art, literature, science and theology. Since a detachment of Dullards came over with the Pilgrims in the _Mayflower_ and made a favorable report of the country, their increase by birth, immigration, and conversion has been rapid and steady. According to the most trustworthy statistics the number of adult Dullards in the United States is but little short of thirty millions, including the statisticians. The intellectual centre of the race is somewhere about Peoria, Illinois, but the New England Dullard is the most shockingly moral.
Michael grew silent, his gaze softening as he looked from me to Will, and a dim light of hope flickered in my heart. 'You would mourn for him.' 'Yes, I said. 'I would mourn him forever with a broken heart. This human soul has given me so many blessings and curses. I'm the only one of our kind who has ever felt the most perfect happiness and the truest sorrow - because of this soul. My love for my Guardian is one of those blessings. It's not a curse.' 'You can, ' I promised. 'Please trust me. I need all the help I can get, and that includes yours. If you kill my Guardian, then I will never forgive you. I can't be at war with you too. Please, please, Michael, my brother. Don't kill him... A tear caught on the edge of my lips. 'Do you love me as your sister?' His mouth opened to reply, but nothing came out. 'It's okay, ' I whispered. 'You're worried about me, because you love me. Don't be afraid of feeling anything. our Father made us this way. He wouldn't make a mistake.' 'I... , ' Michael said, and emotion spilled over his face. His brow furrowed with exhaustion and he seemed overwhelmed by what he felt. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. 'You are my sister, Gabriel.' 'Then don't do this.' I begged him. He was quiet again for several agonising moments, returning to his emotionless state. 'Keep him. I have faith in you, Sister. Will and I breathed sighs of relief, but it was a few seconds before Michael withdrew his sword. His expression remained unchanging as he lifted Will's death warrant.
Courtney Allison Moulton
The hit-woman opened the door. No dead body on the floor. Thank God. I heard an unearthly roar and then Jordan charged Liz from where she'd been hiding beside the door. She tackled her to the floor and stabbed her through the wrist with a small switchblade. The hit-woman shrieked and let go of the gun, allowing Jordan precious seconds to bat it across the room. She landed a couple hard punches to the assassin's nose, bloodying it, before the other woman got the upper hand. She grabbed a handful of Jordan's ponytail and slammed her head into the edge of the coffee table. Jordan cried out, but didn't let go of the knife. She withdrew it and held it against the assassin's throat, shouting, 'Move again and I'll kill you, puta!' Liz panted madly, but stayed put. Jordan glanced up at me. 'You okay?' 'Alive, ' I said through a grimace. 'Not okay.' 'Good enough.' She returned her gaze to the woman pinned beneath her and glared. 'The police are on their way. And not the nice, human police. Angels. Get any ideas about trying to kill me again and you won't even get to deal with them.' 'I've been in jail before, ' Liz said, attempting to recapture her former arrogance. 'I'll get over it.' Jordan leaned down a few inches, lowering her voice. 'Really? How'd you like to return without your tongue?' Liz's eyes went wide, as did mine. 'You wouldn't dare.' 'You shot my best friend. Multiple times. Lex talionis.' 'You can't kill me. You're not a policewoman. You're just a girl.' 'No. I'm a Seer. You and the rest of your friends had better learn the difference between a sheep and a wolf in sheep's clothing. Until then... ' She lifted her fist and punched Liz hard in the temple. The assassin went out like a light. 'Vaya con dios, bitch.
Water everywhere, falling in thundering cataracts, singular drops, and draping sheets. Kellhus paused next to one of the shining braziers, peered beneath the bronze visage that loomed orange and scowling over his father, watched him lean back into absolute shadow. 'You came to the world, ' unseen lips said, 'and you saw that Men were like children.' Lines of radiance danced across the intervening waters. 'It is their nature to believe as their fathers believed, ' the darkness continued. 'To desire as they desired ... Men are like wax poured into moulds: their souls are cast by their circumstances. Why are no Fanim children born to Inrithi parents? Why are no Inrithi children born to Fanim parents? Because these truths are made, cast by the particularities of circumstance. Rear an infant among Fanim and he will become Fanim. Rear him among Inrithi and he will become Inrithi ... 'Split him in two, and he would murder himself.' Without warning, the face re-emerged, water-garbled, white save the black sockets beneath his brow. The action seemed random, as though his father merely changed posture to relieve some vagrant ache, but it was not. Everything, Kellhus knew, had been premeditated. For all the changes wrought by thirty years in the Wilderness, his father remained De»nyain ... Which meant that Kellhus stood on conditioned ground. 'But as obvious as this is, ' the blurred face continued, 'it escapes them. Because they cannot see what comes before them, they assume nothing comes before them. Nothing. They are numb to the hammers of circumstance, blind to their conditioning. What is branded into them, they think freely chosen. So they thoughtlessly cleave to their intuitions, and curse those who dare question. They make ignorance their foundation. They confuse their narrow conditioning for absolute truth.' He raised a cloth, pressed it into the pits of his eyes. When he withdrew it, two rose-coloured stains marked the pale fabric. The face slipped back into the impenetrable black. 'And yet part of them fears. For even unbelievers share the depth of their conviction. Everywhere, all about them, they see examples of their own self-deception ... 'Me!' everyone cries. 'I am chosen!' How could they not fear when they so resemble children stamping their feet in the dust? So they encircle themselves with yea-sayers, and look to the horizon for confirmation, for some higher sign that they are as central to the world as they are to themselves.' He waved his hand out, brought his palm to his bare breast. 'And they pay with the coin of their devotion.
R. Scott Bakker
Five actors playing allotted parts on a set stage; and now he, for whom no part had been written, had walked onto the stage unexpectedly, because one of the players had turned rebel, as she had once before. He threw everything out of focus, and them into a fever. The heat and intensity of these flying questions was enough to make a man with even partially trained clairvoyant faculties feel as if he sat in a room filled with flashing fireflies. He took warning and withdrew himself to a cold inner isolation, as he knew how to do, even while laughing and talking with surface ease. It would not do to let his mind become clouded with emotion; or open any door of his imagination. But the impressions that came across that safer inner distance did not make his companions seem less dramatic, more normal: they were still out of focus. Something about the picture was distorted, even to a clear vision. The sense of evil was as strong as ever although the lurking Presence seemed to have retreated into a far background. He saw presently what the distortion was. Their modern figures were somehow incongruous in the old house, not at home. Like actors who had somehow got onto the wrong stage, onto sets with which their voices and costumes clashed. Interlopers. Or else-actors of an old school dressed up in an unbecoming masquerade. Witch House was an old house. Not old as other houses are old, that remain beds of the continuous stream of life, of marriages and births and deaths, of children crying and children laughing, where the past is only part of the pattern, root of the present and the future. Joseph de Quincy, dead nearly a quarter of a thousand years, was still its master: he had been strong, so strong that no later personality could dim or efface him here where he had set his seal. "He left his evil here when he could no longer stay himself, " Carew thought. "As a man with diphtheria leaves germs on the things he has handled, the bed he has lain in. Thoughts are tangible things; on their own plane they breed like germs and, unlike germs, they do not die. He may have forgotten; he may even walk the earth in other flesh, but what he has left here lives." As probably it had been meant to do. For the man whose malignance, swollen with the contributions of the centuries, still ensouled these walls would not have cared to build a house or found a family except as a means to an end. Witch House was set like a mold, steeped in ritual atmosphere as a temple. Dangerous business, for who could say that such a temple would not find a god? There are low, non-human beings that coalesce with and feed on such leftover forces: lair in them.
There have been ample opportunities since 1945 to show that material superiority in war is not enough if the will to fight is lacking. In Algeria, Vietnam and Afghanistan the balance of economic and military strength lay overwhelmingly on the side of France, the United States, and the Soviet Union, but the will to win was slowly eroded. Troops became demoralised and brutalised. Even a political solution was abandoned. In all three cases the greater power withdrew. The Second World War was an altogether different conflict, but the will to win was every bit as important - indeed it was more so. The contest was popularly perceived to be about issues of life and death of whole communities rather than for their fighting forces alone. They were issues, wrote one American observer in 1939, 'worth dying for'. If, he continued, 'the will-to-destruction triumphs, our resolution to preserve civilisation must become more implacable... our courage must mount'. Words like 'will' and 'courage' are difficult for historians to use as instruments of cold analysis. They cannot be quantified; they are elusive of definition; they are products of a moral language that is regarded sceptically today, even tainted by its association with fascist rhetoric. German and Japanese leaders believed that the spiritual strength of their soldiers and workers in some indefinable way compensate for their technical inferiority. When asked after the war why Japan lost, one senior naval officer replied that the Japanese 'were short on spirit, the military spirit was weak... ' and put this explanation ahead of any material cause. Within Germany, belief that spiritual strength or willpower was worth more than generous supplies of weapons was not confined to Hitler by any means, though it was certainly a central element in the way he looked at the world. The irony was that Hitler's ambition to impose his will on others did perhaps more than anything to ensure that his enemies' will to win burned brighter still. The Allies were united by nothing so much as a fundamental desire to smash Hitlerism and Japanese militarism and to use any weapon to achieve it. The primal drive for victory at all costs nourished Allied fighting power and assuaged the thirst for vengeance. They fought not only because the sum of their resources added up to victory, but because they wanted to win and were certain that their cause was just. The Allies won the Second World War because they turned their economic strength into effective fighting power, and turned the moral energies of their people into an effective will to win. The mobilisation of national resources in this broad sense never worked perfectly, but worked well enough to prevail. Materially rich, but divided, demoralised, and poorly led, the Allied coalition would have lost the war, however exaggerated Axis ambitions, however flawed their moral outlook. The war made exceptional demands on the Allied peoples. Half a century later the level of cruelty, destruction and sacrifice that it engendered is hard to comprehend, let alone recapture. Fifty years of security and prosperity have opened up a gulf between our own age and the age of crisis and violence that propelled the world into war. Though from today's perspective Allied victory might seem somehow inevitable, the conflict was poised on a knife-edge in the middle years of the war. This period must surely rank as the most significant turning point in the history of the modern age.