Quotes About Conflict

Which side are we on, then?" "That's one o'those questions you try not to answer till you have to.

Her father gave a sad smile at that. "Believe it or not, we all want what's best. The root o' the world's ills is that no one can agree on what it is.

A bruising love where every pat was just this side of a slap. The love one has for something always beneath you.

Let's give these Crinna sheepfuckers a fucking they'll not forget!

War?' 'It's when a fight gets so big almost no one comes out of it well.

War killed some soldiers, sure, but it left the rest with money, and songs to sing, and a fire to sit around. It killed a lot more farmers, and left the rest with nought but ashes.

Where do we find allies?' Father Yarvi smiled. 'Among our enemies, where else?

Trouble with the good fight, I find... once the fight starts, the good stops.

war, plans and reality barely noticed each other in passing. Panicked guesswork was the best one could hope for.

Magic fades from the world but, in truth, most problems have always been better solved with a few sharp words. Or a little sharp steel.

Fuck,' he whispered. 'Aye,' said Shivers. Craw almost took a tumble on the wet grass. 'Til he remembered there was an awful lot a man could be saying fuck about. That's the beauty of the word. It can mean just about anything, depending on how things stand. Horror, shock, pain, fear, worry. None were out of place. There was a battle on.

If anyone had asked him, Clover would've said there was less than no chance this'd be settled with talk. But you never realise how much hope you're holding till it gets knifed and thrown off a roof.

La historia no es un relato de las batallas entre el bien y el mal, sino entre el bien de una persona y el de otra. El mal no es lo contrario del bien. Es como llamamos a la noción del bien que tiene otra persona cuando difiere de la nuestra.

who's-the-biggest-cunt contest, wouldn't you say?" Shivers slowly nodded. "A real arsehole's parade." "But then the arseholes tend to win, don't they?

Life—the way it really is—is a battle not between good and bad, but between bad and worse." —Joseph Brodsky What Freedom Looks Like The point of the shovel bit into the ground with the sharp scrape of metal on earth.

We tell the odd fond story of the good men. The straight edges. Your Rudd Threetrees, your Dogmen. But it's the butchers men love to sing of. The burners and the blood-spillers. Your Cracknut Whirruns and your Black Dows. Your Bloody-Nines. Men don't dream of doing the right thing, but of ripping what they want from the world with their strength and their will.

But that's what war is. A lot of folk getting killed that don't deserve it.

For the briefest moment he almost kissed her, and he almost pushed her off the roof. Perhaps it was only because he could not decide which to do that he did neither one.

Logen stepped round one of the stones and found himself looking straight into a face, close enough almost to feel its breath on his cheek. A young face. A good-looking one, with clean skin and a sharp nose, wide-open brown eyes. Logen smashed his forehead into it.

I have to fight fire with fire.' 'That'll win you naught but ashes,

Cosca winced. "You always were far too attached to fighting. How often did I tell you? A mercenary has no business getting involved with that nonsense.

The Middle East is hopeful. There's hope there.

There's a lot of revisionist history that goes on these days about Iraq.

If this phrase the 'balance of power' is to always be an argument for war, the pretense for war will never be wanting, and peace can never be secure.