My 17 month old has picked up the word "horrible" - "haba". Everything is "haba" right now.
How do you feel?
Haba.
How is your breakfast?
Haba.
Do you want to go in the car?
Haba.
I was sort of expecting All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Remarque to be, well, haba. I knew it was a novel about World War I and I knew it was going to be a grisly, sad read. But I did wind up liking it to my great surprise. I liked how human the characters seemed. It wasn't all about guns and shooting but more about the characters' feelings about being in the war and about their country.
I think I was supposed to have read this in high school at some point, and I'm actually glad I didn't. I don't think I had the maturity then to be able to appreciate it.
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