Quotes About War

It is true. But there is more, and worse that he has not said." The words came tonelessly, as a statue would speak them. "If you go to Troy, you will never return. You will die a young man there.

I sat frozen, afraid to move lest I give myself away. I am bound to this war.

She says that there is strangeness among the gods, that they are fighting with each other, taking sides in the war. She fears that the gods have promised me fame, but not how much.

first blood was ours, spilt by the god-like prince of Phthia.

I hope that Hector kills you" The breath rasps in his throat. "Do you think I do not hope the same?" he asks

They would return Helen, or we would get to fight for her properly, in the field.

Yes. But it is not his fault. I forgot to say I wished him for a companion." Therapon was the word he used. A brother-in-arms sworn to a prince by blood oaths and love. In war, these men were his honor guard; in peace, his closest advisers.

do not fear for Troy. It is only Hector that he wants. Hector, and Hector alone. When Hector is dead, he will stop.

Aprendí a dormir de día con el fin de no estar cansado a su regreso, pues Aquiles siempre necesitaba hablar y contarme hasta el último detalle de los semblantes, las heridas y los movimientos de los hombres. Y yo deseaba ser capaz de escuchar para asimilar las sangrientas imágenes y pintarlas luego vulgares y corrientes en el vaso de la posteridad, y para liberarle de ellas y conseguir que volviera a ser Aquiles.

Because, dear King of Argos, if war comes after some diplomacy or delay, we do not seem so much the villains.

War has always seemed to me a foolish choice for men. Whatever they wi from it, they will only have a handful of years enjoy before they die. More likely they will perish trying.

By the beginning of the twentieth century, it was a European habit to distinguish between civilized wars and colonial wars. The laws of war applied to wars among the civilized nation-states, but laws of nature were said to apply to colonial wars

The skirmishes in the occupied land are part of the war of destiny. The outcome of hundreds of years of war will be defined in Palestinian land.

Be my lover between two wars waged in the mirror, she said. I don't want to return now to the fortress of my father's house. Take me to your vineyard. Let me meet your mother. Perfume me with basil water. Arrange me on silver dishes, comb me, imprison me in your name, let love kill me.

I look out on my language, two days later A short absence is enough for Aeschylus to open the door to peace a short speech is enough for Antonio to incite war A hand of a woman in my hand is enough to embrace my freedom and for the ebb and flow to begin anew in my body (I See my Ghost Coming from a Distance)

Come with me tonight so that we might make tonight a shared past, says the one afflicted with longing. I will come with you to make a shared tomorrow, says the one afflicted with love. She does not love the past and wants to forget the war that has ended. He fears tomorrow, because the war has not ended and he does not want to grow older.

The wars will end and the leaders will shake hands, and that old woman will remain waiting for her martyred son, and that girl will wait for her beloved husband, and the children will wait for their heroic father, I do not know who sold the homeland but I know who paid the price.

It is for the killer to kill, the fighter to fight, and the bird to sing. As for me, I halt my quest for figurative language. I bring my search for meaning to a complete stop because the essence of war is to degrade symbols and bring human relations, space, time, and the elements back to a state of nature, making us rejoice over water gushing on the road from a broken pipe.

It's a sad day when the leaders of the free world engage in such deception and trickery. I voted against this unnecessary war and will continue to argue that the best way to support our troops is to bring them home.

You do not win a war by dying for your country. You win a war by making sure that some poor bastard dies for his.

Unfortunately, however, weapons of mass destruction tend to attract maniacs: men - it's almost always men - who want to jab the red button and yell "Take that, you heathen infidel bastards!" and sit in their revolving chairs in underground lead-lined bunkers or caves, watching on their monitors World War III or the Final Jihad or whatever.

I'm so angry,' she said. 'I was all right until you came back. I'd given up. So many terrible things. Relatives, neighbors disappearing. Opa. The bloody Germans coming to...to strip us bare. Oma's silence. Bam, bam, bam. Like being punched over and over again. You get numb. It doesn't hurt anymore. Unless you start to hope. That's the trick, you see: you can take anything unless you start to hope.

We should just bomb them back to the Stone Age.

Philip managed a reasonably good impersonation of British POW ignoring a flesh wound.