Quotes About War

but from an early age she would have known literarily what she at twenty-one discovered empirically: there were days you felt like waging war, and days when you just needed to go home.

The best that can be said of the Alexandrian War is that Caesar acquitted himself brilliantly in a situation in which he stupidly found himself.

In John Adams's worst nightmare, the story of the American Revolution assumed a different formulation: "The essence of the whole will be that Dr. Franklin's electrical rod smote the earth and out sprung General Washington. That Franklin electrified him with his rod—and thence forward these two conducted all the policy, negotiation, legislatures, and war.

Witchcraft localized anxiety at a dislocated time, as atomic war powered McCarthy rumors in the 1950s.

War is the worst way of gathering knowledge about a foreign culture.

Once, a terribly important war never got declared, and all because the King, decked in spangles and crystal pendants, hung three days from the ceiling of the main hall and passed for a chandelier, holding his mouth to keep from laughing out loud at the ministers rushing about frantically below.

WAR IS PEACE. FREEDOM IS SLAVERY. IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH. The Three Slogans of the Party George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four

La Guerra de la Independencia [.... g]eneró dos nuevos términos políticos y militares que España proporcionó al mundo contemporáneo: «guerrilla» y «liberal».

En algunos territorios se desató una guerra civil de tipo racial que adoptaría su forma más cruda en Venezuela —«¡Viva el rey! ¡Mueran los blancos!», gritaban sus contrincantes en la lucha contra Bolívar en 1817—.

fascism may be defined as "a form of revolutionary ultranationalism for national rebirth that is based on a primarily vitalist philosophy, is structured on extreme elitism, mass mobilization, and the Führerprinzip, positively values violence as end as well as means and tends to normatize war and/or the military virtues."12

War teaches us to need an enemy to conquer and overcome and to see those who are different as lesser, dangerous, inhuman [Feminist Earth-based Spirituality and Ecofeminism, Healing the Wounds: The Promise of Ecofeminism ].

Anche nelle poesie del Catena, che pure sono guerra e battaglia, cerco la bellezza di un istante che lo colse di sorpresa, indicandogli una possibile salvezza. Di tutte le ricchezze che io ho viste...

Legitimate brothers were all too likely to go to war over an inheritance. Bastards had to hitch their fortunes to the king and his designated heir, and many kings produced them with abandon.

War creates many strange juxtapositions, perhaps none stranger than this: men who are doing their utmost to kill other men can transform in a split second into lifesavers. Soldiers who encounter a wounded man (often an enemy) become tender, caring angels of mercy. The urge to kill and the urge to save sometimes run together simultaneously.

During the Second World War, the Germans took four years to build the Atlantic Wall. On four beaches it held up the Allies for about an hour; at Omaha it held up the U.S. for less than one day. The Atlantic Wall must therefore be regarded as one of the greatest blunders in military history.

Sorry, but retirement offends me. You don't just stop fighting in the middle of a war because your legs hurt. So why do you get to stop working in the middle of your life just because your prostate hurts? That's desertion.

Whenever peace—conceived as the avoidance of war—has been the primary objective Ã¢â'¬Â¦ the international system has been at the mercy of its most ruthless member. —Henry Kissinger

Mother, whose heart hung humble as a button the bright splendid shroud of your son, Do not weep. War is kind.

At times he regarded the wounded soldiers in an envious way. He conceived persons with torn bodies to be peculiarly happy. He wished that he, too, had a wound, a red badge of courage.

Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind. Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky And the affrighted steed ran on alone, Do not weep. War is kind. Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment, Little souls who thirst for fight, These men were born to drill and die. The unexplained glory flies above them, Great is the battle-god, great, and his kingdom -A field where a thousand corpses lie. Do not weep, babe, for war is kind.

They were going to look at war, the red animal—war, the blood-swollen god. And they were deeply engrossed in this march.

These happenings had occupied an incredibly short time, yet the youth felt that in them he had been made aged. New eyes were given to him. And the most startling thing was to learn suddenly that he was very insignificant. The officer spoke of the regiment as if he referred to a broom. Some part of the woods needed sweeping, perhaps, and he merely indicated a broom in a tone properly indifferent to its fate. It was war, no doubt, but it appeared strange.

And there were iron laws of tradition and law on four sides. He was in a moving box. As he perceived this fact it occurred to him that he had never wished to come to the war. He had not enlisted of his free will. He had been dragged by the merciless government. And now they were taking him out to be slaughtered.

He wished that he, too, had a wound, a red badge of courage.