Quotes About War

I lived through rockets that would explode children into a million pieces. Sometimes we'd clean up body parts with our own hands. There wouldn't be a whole body to pick up. Just a hand or a leg or a head.

Sometimes I joke to Munir that someone should gather all of us Syrians in one place and kill us so we can be done with this whole thing already. Then we'll all go to heaven and leave Bashar al-Assad to rule over an empty country.

If I'd known this was life here I would have stayed in Syria and handed myself over to ISIS. It's better to die once than die slowly every day.

We were thirty-five people in one house. The women would sleep in one room and the men in another. When there was shelling, we'd be about three hundred people in the underground shelter.

My brother was kidnapped by the shabeeha. After eighteen days, they sent him back to us, killed under torture.

We spent eight months living in different places. Sometimes we found places to rent and sometimes we didn't. It was like a vacation, but with bombing.

Deep down, I have come to the conclusion that the reason (children) are such a low priority to the great human institutions that seek to control this world, both secular and Christian, is that an invisible battle, a spiritual war, rages over each and every child. It is above us and beyond us and engages the full fury of the hosts of both heaven and hell. Children may be ignored by government, church, and mission – but not by Satan or God Almighty.

War is the game played by old men with the lives of the young

If you could hear, at every jolt, the bloodCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cudOf vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—My friend, you would not tell with such high zestTo children ardent for some desperate glory,The old Lie: Dulce et decorum estPro patria mori.

My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.

Above all, this book is not concerned with Poetry,The subject of it is War, and the pity of War.The Poetry is in the pity.All a poet can do is warn.

Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.

The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

This book is not about heroes. English poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds, or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, might, majesty, dominion, or power, except War. Above all I am not concerned with Poetry. My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.

Oh, Death was never enemy of ours! We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum. No soldier's paid to kick against His powers. We laughed, — knowing that better men would come, And greater wars: when each proud fighter brags He wars on Death, for lives; not men, for flags.

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory That old lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

But the old man would not so, but slew his son, And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

He's lost his colour very far from here, Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry

I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears; and caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts; and buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts; and rusted every bayonet with His tears.

I am the enemy you killed, my friend.

You shall not hear their mirth: You shall not come to think them well content By any jest of mine. These men are worth Your tears:You are not worth their merriment.

A living being does not fire blindly without knowing at what he is shooting and for what reason. Life had to have died within those who did so. This was not changed by the fact that the machines moved spontaneously, mechanically. If these mechanical men did not exist there would be no war. But how did they work? What controlled their actions? Who created them and why? How could living beings degenerate thus?

In this view, people often (but not always) take on risky projects because they are overly optimistic about the odds they face. I will return to this idea several times in this book—it probably contributes to an explanation of why people litigate, why they start wars, and why they open small businesses.

war. A balanced peace is a poor fertilizer for promotion.