“Morning, Peter,” she callsfrom the back, in her exaggerated German accent. Mawning, Pedder.She’s been in the States more than fifteen years now, but heraccent has gotten heavier. Uta is a member of what seems to be agrowing body of defiantly unassimilated expatriates. She on onehand disdains her country of origin (Darling, the word “lugubrious”comes to mind) but on the other seems to grow more German (morenot-American) with every passing year....Because Uta is German, utterly German, which of course is probably why she leftthere, and insists that she’ll never go back.”

“No other German writer of comparable stature has been a more extreme critic of German nationalism than Nietzsche.”

“For a short while she considered the idea of orchestral courtesy. Certainly one should avoid giving political offence: German orchestras, of course, used to be careful about playing Wagner abroad, at least in some countries, choosing instead German composers who were somewhat more ... apologetic.”

“The dog, who had sounded so ferocious in the winter distances, was a female German Shepherd. She was shivering. Her tail was between her legs. She had been borrowed that morning from a farmer. She had never been to war before. She had no idea what game was being played. Her name was Princess.”

“She continued her own studies, principally attending to German, and to Literature; and every Sunday she went alone to the German and English chapels. Her walks too were solitary, and principally taken in the allée défendue, where she was secure from intrusion. This solitude was a perilous luxury to one of her temperament; so liable as she was to morbid and acute mental suffering.”

“The handful of Germans who had reached the trench had been sacrificed for the stupid sort of fun called. Strategy, probably. Stupid! . . . It was, of course, just like German spools to go mining by candle-light. Obsoletely Nibenlungen-like. Dwarfs probably!”