Sometimes the girl stands with arms around the boy’s waist, hands tightly clasped behind. Another fits her head into the curve of his cheek while tears fall onto his coat. Now and then the boy will take her face between his hands and speak reassuringly. Or, if the wait is long they may just stand quietly, not saying anything. The common denominator of all these goodbyes is sadness and tenderness, the complete oblivion for the moment to anything but their own individual heartaches.

Life, February 14, 1944

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