Quotes About Conflict

Politics is the skilled use of blunt objects.

The choice, however, is as clear now for nations as it was once for the individual: peace or extinction.

The grim fact is that we prepare for war like precocious giants, and for peace like retarded pygmies.

It has too often been too easy for rulers and governments to incite man to war.

The fact is that we prepare for war like giants, and for peace like pygmies.

Sometimes in politics one must duel with skunks, but no one should be fool enough to allow the skunks to choose the weapons.

The Sino-Soviet conflict was not due to any ideological heresy but to the independence of the Chinese Communists and the fact that, as we may suppose, the Chinese revolution was contrary to the interests of Russian imperialism.

W?? dowodzi gryzieniem, ?e ma racj?. A kto umrze od uk?szenia w??a, nie ma racji, bo nie?ywi z definicji racji nie maj?!

She tortured everybody around her, but only because she was more tortured than anyone.

Look, who's the talking bear here?" Quentin snapped. "Is it you? Are you the talking fucking bear? All right. So shut the fuck up.

That guy was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and crudely stapled to a ticking fucking time bomb. He was either going to hit somebody or start a blog.

The quietness of it was weird: real fights happened without a sound track.

It was Italy after all. People probably hit each other all the time.

Shit was getting geological, yo.

We found some of them. It was always either a fight

You want to know what it's like to be a demon? Imagine knowing, always and forever, that you are right, and that everyone and everything else is wrong.

Awesome axes," Josh said. "Where did you—" "Your mom gave them to me," Janet said. "After I fucked her." "Why—" "Because she enjoyed it so much." Not

It was so much easier to be angry. Being angry made him feel strong, even though—and this contradiction did nothing to diminish his anger—he was angry only because his position was so weak.

It was easy when you were this angry, and this good, and God he was angry. And good.

Their little dance was like the endgame of a disastrously bloody chess match, just a queen chasing a beleaguered king around an empty board, sadistically refusing to checkmate.

Hey—Penny, is it?" Plum said. "That ought to pay for Quentin's library fines, don't you think? Or Alice could just punch you again, it's all good." But

You. Killed. A. Hermit. You. Weird. Sweaty. Bastard!

He only had time to feel all the tenderness he had ever felt for her surge up in one infinitely concentrated instant - and to be surprised that it was all still there, moist and intact beneath the unsightly scorched layer of his anger...

Trees were fucking mental in a fight, it turned out.