Quotes About War

Superstitions, bigotries, hypocrisies, prejudices, these phantoms, phantoms though they be, cling to life; they have teeth and nails in their shadowy substance, and we must grapple with them individually and make war on them without truce; for it is one of humanity's inevitabilities to be condemned to eternal struggle with phantoms.

Ninety-three was the war of Europe against France, and of France against Paris. And what was the Revolution? It was the victory of France over Europe, and of Paris over France. Hence the immensity of that terrible moment?, '93, greater than all the rest of the century

There were corpses here and there and pools of blood. I remember seeing a butterfly flutter up and down that street. Summer does not abdicate.

Tal es la explicación de la guerra, que es algo que lleva a cabo la humanidad contra la humanidad pese a la humanidad.

Napoleon was accustomed to gaze steadily at war; he never added up the heart-rending details, cipher by cipher; ciphers mattered little to him, provided that they furnished the total, victory; he was not alarmed if the beginnings did go astray, since he thought himself the master and the possessor at the end; he knew how to wait, supposing himself to be out of the question, and he treated destiny as his equal: he seemed to say to fate, Thou wilt not dare.

During the years of suffering he reachd the conclusion that life was war in which he was one of the defeated. Hatred was his onlt weapon, and he resolved to sharpen it in prison and carry it with him when he left.

Civil war? What does that mean? Is there any foreign war? Isn't every war fought between men, between brothers?

A beautiful woman is a casus belli; a pretty woman is flagrant misdemeanour. All the invasions of history have been determined by petticoats.

La guerre, c'est la guerre des hommes; la paix c'est la guerre des idées.

War has frightful beauties which we have not concealed; it has also, we acknowledge, some hideous features. One of the most surprising is the prompt stripping of the bodies of the dead after the victory. The dawn which follows a battle always rises on naked corpses.

Nous ne sommes pas de ceux qui flattent la guerre; quand l'occasion s'en présente, nous lui disons ses vérités. La guerre a d'affreuses beautés que nous n'avons point cachées; elle a aussi, convenons-en, quelques laideurs. Une des plus surprenantes, c'est le prompt dépouillement des morts après la victoire. L'aube qui suit une bataille se lève toujours sur des cadavres nus.

From suffering to suffering, he had gradually arrived at the conviction that life is a war; and that in this war he was the conquered.

Civil war? What does that mean? Is there any war that is not fought between men, between brothers?

A harmony established contrary to sense is often more onerous than a war.

Men had only touched him to bruise him. Every contact with them had been a blow. Never, since his infancy, since the days of his mother, of his sister, had he ever encountered a friendly word and a kindly glance. From suffering to suffering, he had gradually arrived at the conviction that life is a war; and that in this war he was the conquered. He had no other weapon than his hate. He resolved to whet it in the galleys and to bear it away with him when he departed.

The words passive obedience indicate this. An army is a strange masterpiece of combination where force results from an enormous sum of impotence. Thus is war, made by humanity against humanity, despite humanity, explained.

Civil war—what does that mean? Is there a foreign war? Is not all war between men, war between brothers?

All war is a thing of terror, and there is no choice in it.

A guerra civil? O que há a dizer? Mas haverá uma guerra estrangeira? Toda a guerra entre homens, não é a guerra entre irmãos? (...) Pois bem, a monarquia é o estrangeiro; a opressão é o estrangeiro; o direito divino é o estrangeiro. O despotismo violenta a fronteira moral, como a invasão violenta a fronteira geográfica.

La guerre : c'est l'humanité contre l'humanité malgré l'humanité.

She was wiser than she'd been before. Now she knew how fragile life and love were. Maybe she would love him for only this day, or maybe for only the next week, or maybe until she was an old, old woman. Maybe he would be the love of her life... or her love for the duration of this war... or maybe he would only be her first love. All she really knew was that in this terrible, frightening world, she had stumbled into something unexpected. And she would not let it go again.

The father who went off to war was not the one who came home.

The smile he gave her was barely one at all. "We are all fragile, Isabelle. It's the thing we learn in war.

The landscape of a woman's soul could change as quickly as a world at war.