Quotes About Conflict

Rahel's "list" was an attempt to order chaos. She revised it constantly, torn forever between love and duty. It was by no means a true gauge of her feelings.

In the country that she came from, poised forever between the terror of war and the horror of peace, Worse Things kept happening.

In Kashmir when we wake up and say "Good Morning" what we really mean is "Good Mourning.

The war against terror is not really about terror. It's about a superpower's self-destructive impulse toward supremacy, stranglehold, global hemegony.

A war that we have won and lost. The very worst sort of war. A war that captures dreams and re-dreams them. A war that has made us adore our conquerors and despise ourselves.

Un, kad m?s skat?mies pa logu, tad redzam tikai ?nas. Ka m??in?m ieklaus?ties, m?s dzirdam tikai ?ukstus. M?s nevaram saprast ?ukstus, jo m?su pr?tos ir iebrucis karš. Karš, kur? m?s esam uzvar?juši un zaud?juši Pats slikt?kais karš. Karš, kas sag?sta sap?us un tos p?rsap?o par jaunu. Karš, kas licis mums piel?gt m?su iekarot?jus un nicin?t pašiem sevi.

Mohabbat goliyon se bo rahe ho Watan ka chehra khoon se dho rahe ho Gumaan tum ko ke rasta katt raha hai Yaqeen mujhko ke manzil kho rahe ho

Ja vi?š tai pieskarsies, vi?š nevar?s ar to run?t, ja vi?š to m?l?s, vi?š nevar?s aiziet, ja vi?š run?s, vi?š nevar?s klaus?ties, ja vi?š c?n?sies, vi?š nevar?s uzvar?t.

Argentina & Iraq have been decimated by the same process with different weapons; an IMF cheque & cruise missiles.

Vi?ai izveidoj?s sp?c?ga netaisn?bas izj?ta un ietiep?gs, bezr?p?gs raksturs, k?ds rodas, tad, kad K?du Mazu visu m?žu sp?dzina K?ds Lielais. Vi?a neko nedar?ja, lai izvair?tos no str?diem un konfliktiem. Paties?bu sakot, vi?a tos pat mekl?ja, varb?t vi?ai tie pat patika.

I would like to write one of those sophisticated stories in which even though nothing much happens there's lots to write about. That can't be done in Kashmir. It's not sophisticated, what happens here. There's too much blood for good literature.

NOTHING I would like to write one of those sophisticated stories in which even though nothing much happens there's lots to write about. That can't be done in Kashmir. It's not sophisticated, what happens here. There's too much blood for good literature. Q 1: Why is it not sophisticated? Q 2: What is the acceptable amount of blood for good literature?

Now we're in a situation where democracy has been taken into the workshop and fixed, remodelled to be market friendly. So now the United States is fighting wars to install democracies. First is was topple them, now it's install them. And the whole rise of corporate-funded NGOs in the modern world, this notion of CSR, corporate social responsibility--it's all part of a New Managed Democracy. In a sense, it's all part of the same machine.

India asks us, 'Why do you throw stones?' No one asks, 'Who burned your house down?

In an old war, everybody has an ax to grind.

In the years to come, when the war became a way of life, there would be books and films and photo exhibitions curated around the theme of Kashmir's grief and loss.

Cargaban sobre sus espaldas un barril de odio antiguo, prendido con una mecha reciente.

In remote border areas, near the Line of Control, the speed and regularity with which the bodies turned up, and the condition some of them were in, wasn't easy to cope with. Some were delivered in sacks, some in small polythene bags, just pieces of flesh, some hair and teeth. Notes pinned to them by the quartermasters of death said: 1kg, 27 kg, 500 g.

And we cannot understand the whispering, because our minds have been invaded by a war. A war that we have won and lost. The very worst sort of war. A war that captures dreams and re-dreams them. A war that has made us adore our conquerors and despise ourselves.

What I know for sure is only this: in our Kashmir the dead will live forever; and the living are only dead people, pretending.

Sometimes it seems very much as though those who have a radical vision for a newer, better world do not have the steel it takes to resist the military onslaught, and those who have the steel do not have the vision.

Her tolerance of "Men's Needs," as far as her son was concerned, became the fuel for her unmanageable fury at her daughter.

You may be right after all, I said to him in the kitchen. You may be right, but you'll never win. I think the opposite, he smiled, stirring the pot from which a wonderful aroma of rogan josh arose. We may turn out to be wrong, but we have already won.

in Delhi there was no war other than the usual one – the war of the rich against the poor.