Quotes About Conflict

I don't know [what weapons will be used in the Third World War]. But I can tell you what they'll use in the Fourth — rocks!

It would be my greatest sadness to see Zionists (Jews) do to Palestinian Arabs much of what Nazis did to Jews.

You cannot prevent and prepare for war at the same time.

I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.

Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds.

I slipped our wicker bed and walked the sands where we were also roughly repeated: some young couple, "you did," "I didn't," "you sure the fuck did" – they hugged that bicker to their chests like blankets fighting cold.

at the core of whatever made this human atom pile smolder he wasn't cooking anymore. He was all bottled

Histrionic vampires think you're wonderful until they think you're terrible. Then the battle begins.

It is easier to seize wealth than to produce it, and as long as the State makes the seizure of wealth a matter of legalized privilege, so long will the squabble for that privilege go on.

With this turnabout the lusting after reflection, the search to grasp the absolute in transitory experience, loses its grip. One no longer experiences things as objective and independent, but as reflections within knowing. Upstream of all necessity to focus attention, all conflict becomes a dance, all opposition melts as I and the 'other' are known as two faces of one reality.

This moment of non-reflection unveils the awakening before the awakening, the moment when bodhichitta arises. An awakening up-stream of reflection, upstream of all conflict in a moment of knowing without content, it is without any awareness of knowing. One cannot even speak of 'a moment of knowing.' Knowing shines.

cause. There will be no more peace in this land until slavery is done for. I will give them something else to do than to extend slave territory.

A house divided against itself cannot stand,' Ã¢â'¬Â he said in a high-pitched voice. "I believe this government cannot endure

For it is not without cause that one needs the police and the army to earn one's living or force and injustice to continue to exist.

Just as I sat on the fence between two civilizations, so would I now find myself between two classes; and I realized that, in trying to sit on several chairs, one generally lands on the floor.

the present domestic conflict and upheaval grows out of the fact that in spite of their common destiny and deeper interests, the people of the United States are being misled by misinformation to insist on exaggerating their ethnic differences

Link's father had had an inborn hatred of dogs. He would not allow one on the place. His overt excuse was that they killed sheep and worried cattle, and that he could not afford to risk the well-being of his scanty hoard of stock. Thus, Link had grown to manhood with no dog at his heels, and without knowing the normal human's love for canine chumship.

Again and again he would lie down at her feet; only to waken presently with a thunderous growl and a snarl, and with a lunge of bared teeth at her caressing hand. The hand would continue to caress; and his show of fury was met with a laugh and with a comment: "You've had a good sleep, and now you've waked up in a nice homicidal rage.

I'm running it. Not Mr. Ruhl or any one else. Get that through your head, once and for all." "Looka here!" flashed Cleppy. "I don't aim to let any man speak that way to my wife. Cut it out, before I—" "You're fired," ordained Banks, in his best voice. "Go to the cashier and get your time. I'll not stand for any back talk or bluster here. Not from anybody. Get out!

War is a series of catastrophes which result in victory.

Soldiers' graves are the greatest preachers of peace.

I think we need to ask serious questions about how we engage militarily, when we engage militarily, and on what basis we engage militarily. What kind of intelligence do we have to justify a military engagement?

But it was not just my grandmother there waiting for her husband to come home happy or dead. The side stories of revolution were there in Tapachula, a whole town of displaced people put on hold, taken out of time, not so different from the Nogales in which I was raised . . . . they were towns next to countries, but inside countries as well.

The man stopped talking and was looking at the sunset. But what does someone who hates and loves want with a sunset?