Quotes About Conflict

It is the nature of being the general manager of a baseball team that you have to remain on familiar terms with people you are continually trying to screw.

Here was another way Israel was different from the United States: Its wars were short, and someone always won.

The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. —Sun-tzu

What was the secret to dealing with the assholes? "Lift weights or learn karate," said O'Grady.

The game has some of the feel of trading, just as jousting has some of the feel of war.

On Wall Street, the lawyers play the same role as medics in war: They come in after the shooting is over to clean up the mess.

We fought with those cocksuckers all the way down," says one Deutsche Bank trader. And, all the way down, the debt collectors at Deutsche Bank sensed the bond traders at Morgan Stanley misunderstood their own trade. They weren't lying; they genuinely failed to understand the nature of the subprime CDO.

All these subprime companies were calling and hollering at him: You're wrong. Your data's wrong. And he just hollered back at them, 'It's YOUR fucking data!

problem wasn't as simple as a bad cop. Maybe it was the emotional state in which the cop had found himself.

The new companies often put the old ones out of business; the young were forever eating the old. The whole of the Valley was a speeded-up Oedipal drama. In this drama technology played a very clear role. It was the murder weapon.

Inside him a quality and a chemical—intelligence and testosterone—wrestled for hegemony.

The Centers for Disease Control, the apex authority, wasn't of much practical use to her. The distance they had put between themselves and her when she closed Thomashefsky's clinic was of a piece with their general behavior. She'd repeatedly seen the tendency to flee when conflict arose.

They mainly ran around the building insulting people

In the story, an old man tells his grandson that he has a fight going on inside him, and has done his whole life. Between two wolves. One is a bad wolf – a wolf consumed with anger, regret, resentment and sorrow. The other wolf is good, with a heart filled with kindness, compassion and hope. Even joy. The boy asks which wolf will win in the end. The old man looks at him very seriously and says: "The one you feed.

It takes thousands of bullets to kill an army but one to end a war.

That her niece should find such profound pleasure in the company of a thirteen-year-old black girl--and, more to the point, always within the precincts of Elinor's house--was a slap in Mary-Love's face. She decided, without saying anything more to James, to wreck Grace's perfection of happiness. Grace would learn that she, Mary-Love, was the source of all felicity within the Caskey family.

Becoming a genuine individual requires learning the oppositions within oneself. Those who fail or refuse to face the oppositions within have no choice but to find enemies to project upon. Enemy simply means a not-friend; unless a person deals with the not-friend within they require enemies around them.

If the only option you leave poor people with is to resort to violence in order to survive, they'll do just that. And there are lots more poor people in this world than there are rich ones.

Humans have been doin' awful things to each other throughout history. Humanity's not as great as you make it out to be. I do what needs to be done, and that's that. We're about to go to war, Earl. There ain't no humanity in war.

You shouldn't say mean things to people before they kill you. It's being a sore loser.

Let them come. We've got helicopters, tanks, jets, and big guns. We've got armies of robots. What do they have but their stench and the squalor they live in?

I have brought evil to many places," he said, "but usually there has already been evil to match mine. I seek no excuses, for I know what I am and I know what I have done. I have slain malignant sorcerers and destroyed oppressors, but I have also been responsible for slaying fine men, and a woman, my cousin, whom I loved, I killed—or my sword did.

His life was over. The conflicts which tore his mind would no longer trouble him. His fears, his torments, his loves and his hatreds all lay in the past and only oblivion lay before him. .... Even when blackness overwhelmed him and his lungs filled with water, the words continued to whisper through the corridors of his brain. It was strange that he should be dead and still hear the incantation.

I am a man possessed," he groaned, "and without this devil-blade I carry I would not be a man at all.