Quotes About War

Qui, au fond, a eu l'idée de retourner le principe de Clausewitz, qui a eu l'idée de dire : il se peut bien que la guerre soit la politique menée par d'autres moyens, mais la politique elle-même n'est-elle pas la guerre menée par d'autres moyens?

Nothing is constructed, made or invented, except in relative peace, in a small, rare pocket of local peace maintained in the middle of the universal devastation produced by perpetual war.

Do not be scared of the dead,Least they can not drop an ole bomb on your head.

War is a mass of contradictions and carefully acknowledged truths.

If you look at any religious description of hell, it is the same as human society, the way we dream. Hell is a place of suffering, a place of fear, a place of war and violence, a place of judgment and no justice, a place of punishment that never ends.

The warrior has awareness...we are aware that we are at war , and the war in our minds requires discipline. Not the discipline of a soldier but the discipline of a warrior. Not the discipline from the outside to tell us what to do and not to do, but the discipline to be ourselves, no matter what.

Freedom begins when each individual mind dares to liberate itself from the prison it created. We are free when the war in our heads is over.

It's a different kind of mind that looks inward and perceives the need to fight a battle against its own long-held beliefs and judgments. It's a rare mind that looks, sees, and then decides to wage this war—the last war.

Some people can lead the whole world into a great war where millions of people die. There are tyrants all around the world who invade other countries and destroy their people because the tyrants believe in lies.

I have told how Skorzeny wrote in this respect: Hitler had confessed to him he would not use the atomic bomb to win the war. It is very possible the bomb the American used against Japan was the one the Germans did not use against them. By doing so Hitler would not have won the war, he would have lost it, since he would have Judaized his own world, using an extreme Jew method. He would have used the weapon of the enemy. He would have lost by winning. Instead he won by losing.

Whatever your grievances, I'm sure we can address them without resorting to war, persisted Argyle.... Nonsense, said the alien. Do you know how many laborers and industries we'd put out of work if we were to stop the war just because a few bleeding hearts think we can talk out our grievances?

No military man is ever anxious to fight," said Cole. "We've seen war, and we've seen peace, and there's not a soldier or sailor anywhere in the galaxy who doesn't think peace is better.

Tell me, doc. Tell me. Why do they have wars?" I shook my head. Was there ever a good reason? To make the world safe for democracy? To stop the death camps? To free the slaves? Maybe. Those were better reasons than cheap oil. But up close, no matter what the reason, it was husbands and sons and brothers who never came home.

The White Guard, written in the twenties and dealing with the nearly contemporary events of the Russian civil war in his native Kiev and the Ukraine, a book which in its clear-sighted portrayal of human courage and weakness ranks among the truest depictions of war in all of literature.

Behind the Blue Division, the frost-bitten horses of Kozyr-Leshko's cavalry regiment crossed the bridge at a wolfish lope followed by a rumbling, bouncing field-kitchen . . . then it all disappeared as if it had never been. All that remained was the stiffening corpse of a Jew on the approach to the bridge, some trampled hay and horse-dung.

The sentries marched back and forth, guarding their tower, for without knowing it, man had made towers, alarm-bells and weapons for one purpose only - to guard the peace of his hearth and home. For this he goes to war, which if the truth be known, is the only cause for which anyone ought to fight.

Cemeteries in Bohemia are like gardens. The graves are covered with grass and colourful flowers. Modest tombstones are lost in the greenery. When the sun goes down, the cemetery sparkles with tiny candles... no matter how brutal life becomes, peace always reigns in the cemetery. Even in wartime, even in Hitler's time, even in Stalin's time..

The bloody massacre in Bangladesh quickly covered over the memory of the Russian invasion of Czechoslovakia, the assassination of Allende drowned out the groans of Bangladesh, the war in the Sinai Desert made people forget Allende, the Cambodian massacre made people forget Sinai, and so on and so forth until ultimately everyone lets everything be forgotten.

Hate traps us by binding us too tightly to our adversary. This is the obscenity of war: the intimacy of mutually shed blood, the lascivious proximity of two soldiers who, eye to eye, bayonet each other.

The assassination of Allende quickly covered over the memory of the Russian invasion of Bohemia, the bloody massacre in Bangladesh caused Allende to be forgotten, the din of war in the Sinai Desert drowned out the groans of Bangladesh, the massacres in Cambodia caused the Sinai to be forgotten, and so on, and on and on, until everyone has completely forgotten everything.

Not long ago, I caught myself experiencing a most incredible sensation. Leafing through a book on Hitler, I was touched by some of his portraits: they reminded me of my childhood. I grew up during the war; several members of my family perished in Hitler's concentration camps; but what were their deaths compared with the memories of a lost period in my life, a period that would never return?

SavaÅŸ ve kültür Avrupa'n?n iki kutbudur, cennet ve cehennemi, zaferi ve utanc?d?r, ama onlar? birbirinden ay?ramazs?n. Birine bir ÅŸey olduÄŸunda ötekine de olacakt?r, birlikte yok olacaklard?r. Elli y?ld?r Avrupa'da savaÅŸ olmamas?, elli y?ld?r hiçbir Picasso'nun ç?kmamas? olgusuyla gizemli biçimde ilintilidir.

Love's Pestilence, and her slow dogs of war.

The courage of New England was the courage of conscience. It did not rise to that insane and awful passion, the love of war for itself.