Quotes About Soldier

he was still General Bonaparte, the revolutionary soldier who had seized power by force of arms

Don't let anyone but a soldier tell you how to fight a war.

As far as Saddam Hussein being a great military strategist, he is neither a strategist, nor is he schooled in the operational arts, nor is he a tactician, nor is he a general, nor is he a soldier. Other than that, he's a great military man, I want you to know that.

A professional soldier understands that war means killing people, war means maiming people, war means families left without fathers and mothers.

Was denkt Er sich, Lausekerl? Will Er mit Seinem Altweibergebiss Soldat werden? Scher Er sich weg da, Er Zahnkrüppel, sonst vergess ich mich!

Anyone who has ever looked into the glazed eyes of a soldier dying on the battlefield will think hard before starting a war.

There's no such thing as an uninjured soldier.

There is a last word to be said about the fairy tale. The old woman sends the soldier down into the deep darkness, promising him treasure, but telling him to bring back to her just one thing: an old tinder box. He succeeds, but instead of giving it to her, he kills the old woman and goes off to have his own adventures with the box and the magical genie inside. This is a complicated ending, but worth pondering.

Then Walter died as he lived, he told his mate. A hero, a soldier, and a survivor who chose to protect what was precious to him. I don't think, if you could ask him, that he would have any regrets.

Everyone here is someone's daughter," she says quietly. "Every soldier out there is someone's son. The only crime, the only crime is to take a life. There is nothing else." "And that's why you don't fight," I say. She turns to me sharply. "To live is to fight," she snaps. "To preserve life is to fight everything that man stands for.

Hate is the key. Hate is the driver. Hate is the fire that purifies the soldier. The soldier must hate .

I mean, Emily Harris was his wife. And she seemed to resent his leadership, but on the other hand, she felt like a good soldier, that he had to be the leader.

Grant argued that America needed to become America again. And that the only way this was going to happen was if we removed the weeds and allowed people of Grant's race to flourish. A decade later, when Madison Grant's book was translated into German, no one would embrace his notion of race purity more than a young soldier imprisoned in a fortress in Landsberg.

and it is said that Waugh's witnessing numerous blunders and acts of overt cowardice there soured him permanently on the army, the war, and the pretense of high purpose claimed by both.

A week passes but it feels as if he's never been anywhere else. It's one of the things war does to you. Everything you see works to replace moments and people from your life before, until you can't remember why any of it mattered. It doesn't help if you're a soldier. The effect is the same.

Thank you," she whispered, "for keeping yourself alive, soldier." "You're welcome," he whispered back.

It wasn't this soldier's uniform that affected her, and it wasn't his looks. It was the way he had stared at her from across the street, separated from her by ten meters of concrete, a bus, and the electric wires of the tram line.

Just a breath ago, an eighteen-year-old nurse was bending over Rebecca's father's father, a wounded soldier in a Soviet hospital, saying, yes, Shura, we are going to have a baby.

It was a perfect day. For five minutes there was no war, and it was just a glorious Sunday in a Leningrad June. When Tatiana looked up from her ice cream, she saw a soldier staring at her from across the street.

Tatiana... Tatiana... Ta... tiana... —Calla, por favor. —No lo olvides. Dondequiera que estés, si puedes mirar al cielo y ver la constelación de Verseo, si ves su sonrisa y oyes cómo el viento estelar susurra tu nombre, sabrás que te estoy llamando para que vuelvas a Lazarevo. —No tendrás que llamarme, soldado —dice Tatiana, apoyando la cara en el brazo deAlexander—. Nunca me iré de aquí.

No vas a morir, soldado —responde Tatiana—. Sigue viviendo, sigue respirando, aférrate a la vida, no te dejes ir. Prométeme que vivirás por mí, y yo te prometo que cuando termines, te estaré esperando. —Ha empezado a sollozar—. Donde quiera que termines, Alexander, me encontrarás a mí esperándote

When Tatiana looked up from her ice cream, she saw a soldier staring at her from across the street.

Back on land he headed for the pub to forget the kill. The Army had taught him how to handle that as well. How to suspend human feelings in combat, to refuse the blame for all the deaths, the pain, suffering, horror. Greg had never woken screaming like others in the regiment had.

Mawdryn stared at the Brigadier with such a look of pain and longing. For a moment the old soldier's mind went back thirty-five years to his first taste of action as a young lieutenant in Palestine, with his platoon badly shot up by terrorists, and he remembered the mangled conscript who screamed at the officer to take his rifle and kill him.