Quotes About Conflict

Maybe we need a war now and then to get our priorities straight," a second man says.

People are pushing, chesting up, there's much half-assed shoving and garbled smack talk about who dissed who and who crossed whose line and of course everybody's gotta have their boy's back. A melee, you'd call it. A fracas. Not quite a throw-down brawl right here on the sacred turf of Texas Stadium.

Ma certo che non sei malato di mente, solo un pazzo vorrebbe tornare in guerra. Invece che all'infermità, diciamo agli avvocati di appellarsi alla momentanea sanità mentale, che ne pensi? Sei troppo sano di mente per tornare in guerra, Billy Lynn ha ritrovato la lucidità. E' il resto del paese che è matto, a volerlo rispedire al fronte.

Sorry, I said to myself, wondering how many times in my marriage I'd said that, how many times I'd meant it, how many times Claire had actually believed it, and, most important, how many times the utterance had any impact whatsoever on our dispute. What a lovely chart one could draw of this word Sorry .

You can tell if a person has come from the war: they are haunted from all the killing they have seen. It

Usually I was the one who went in and tried to break that up. We didn't want that. We saw that the kids who were crying and not eating were dying.

Anh ch?ng Ä'úng cÅ©ng ch?ng sai, ch? b?i vì Ä'ám Ä'ông không ??ng ý vá»›i anh!

completely different lenses. The racial divide is about the reality each side sees. Each side believes its view is the true reality, and we can't understand why the other side doesn't see the same thing and understand our reality.

Seconds later, they were in the midst of a full-fledged rock fight

and their husbands. When the Quauhquechollans saw how peaceably

We live in a world where the strongest win, and the strongest must expect to be disliked.

He sang the song of the sword, keening as he fed his blade, and Rollo, standing thigh-deep in the creek, ax swinging in murderous blows, blocked the enemy's escape. The Frisians, transported from confidence to bowel-loosening fear, began to drop their weapons.

There is a thing called the blood feud. All societies have them, even the West Saxons have them, despite their vaunted piety. Kill a member of my family and I shall kill one of yours, and so it goes on, generation after generation or until one family is all dead, and Kjartan had just wished a blood feud on himself. I did not know how, I did not know where, I could not know when, but I would revenge Ragnar. I swore it that night.

War is fought in mystery. The truth can take days to travel, and ahead of truth flies rumor, and it is ever hard to know what is really happening, and the art of it is to pluck the clean bone of fact from the rotting flesh of fear and lies.

Fight well, he said distantly, and remember you are Englishmen! Welshmen, someone intervened. Sir Roger visibly flinched at that and then, without another word, led his three men-at-arms from the church.

E enquanto houver um reino nesta ilha varrida pelo vento, haverá guerra. Portanto não podemos nos encolher para longe da guerra. Não podemos nos esconder de sua crueldade, de seu sangue, do fedor, da malignidade ou do júbilo, porque a guerra virá para nós, desejemos ou não. Guerra é destino, e o destino é inexorável.

There's war between the gods, Uhtred, war between the Christian god and our gods, and when there is war in Asgard the gods make us fight for them on earth.

Senhor Uhtred! - O padre Willibald veio correndo na minha direção. - O que está acontecendo? O que está acontecendo? - Decidi começar uma guerra, padre - respondi cheio de animação. - É muito mais interessante que a paz.

This isn't just a war over land, it's a war about God. And Alfred...is Christ's servant...

All men have enemies, otherwise they're not men

Gods fight, Ragnar went on earnestly, and some win, some lose. The Christian god is losing. Otherwise why would we be here? Why would we be winning? The gods reward us if we give them respect, but the Christian god doesn't help his people, does he? They weep rivers of tears for him, they pray to him, they give him their silver, & we come along & slaughter them! Their god is pathetic. If he had any real power then we wouldn't be here, would we?

I was born a Saxon, but raised by Danes, my daughter had married a Norseman, my dearest friend was Irish, my woman was a Saxon, the mother of my children had been Danish, my gods were pagan, and my oath was sworn to AEthelflaed, a Christian. Whose side was I on?

Because there could not be peace, not while two tribes shared one land. One tribe must win. Even the nailed god cannot change that truth. And I was a warrior, and in a world at war the warrior must be cruel.

So what do we do?" Finan asked. "We ride down there," I said, easing my way back from the crest, "we smile politely, and tell the stupid bastard that he's our prisoner.