There are some things you should know.
I don't know what they are.
But they're out there.
Stichwörter: the
It occurred to me that the voracious ambition of humans is never sated by dreams coming true, because the is always the thought that everything might be done better and again
John GreenStichwörter: inspirational contentment dreams fulfillment stars satisfaction wish in the fault hazel-grace-lancaster our
The Loneliness of the Military Historian
Confess: it's my profession
that alarms you.
This is why few people ask me to dinner,
though Lord knows I don't go out of my way to be scary.
I wear dresses of sensible cut
and unalarming shades of beige,
I smell of lavender and go to the hairdresser's:
no prophetess mane of mine,
complete with snakes, will frighten the youngsters.
If I roll my eyes and mutter,
if I clutch at my heart and scream in horror
like a third-rate actress chewing up a mad scene,
I do it in private and nobody sees
but the bathroom mirror.
In general I might agree with you:
women should not contemplate war,
should not weigh tactics impartially,
or evade the word enemy,
or view both sides and denounce nothing.
Women should march for peace,
or hand out white feathers to arouse bravery,
spit themselves on bayonets
to protect their babies,
whose skulls will be split anyway,
or,having been raped repeatedly,
hang themselves with their own hair.
There are the functions that inspire general comfort.
That, and the knitting of socks for the troops
and a sort of moral cheerleading.
Also: mourning the dead.
Sons,lovers and so forth.
All the killed children.
Instead of this, I tell
what I hope will pass as truth.
A blunt thing, not lovely.
The truth is seldom welcome,
especially at dinner,
though I am good at what I do.
My trade is courage and atrocities.
I look at them and do not condemn.
I write things down the way they happened,
as near as can be remembered.
I don't ask why, because it is mostly the same.
Wars happen because the ones who start them
think they can win.
In my dreams there is glamour.
The Vikings leave their fields
each year for a few months of killing and plunder,
much as the boys go hunting.
In real life they were farmers.
The come back loaded with splendour.
The Arabs ride against Crusaders
with scimitars that could sever
silk in the air.
A swift cut to the horse's neck
and a hunk of armour crashes down
like a tower. Fire against metal.
A poet might say: romance against banality.
When awake, I know better.
Despite the propaganda, there are no monsters,
or none that could be finally buried.
Finish one off, and circumstances
and the radio create another.
Believe me: whole armies have prayed fervently
to God all night and meant it,
and been slaughtered anyway.
Brutality wins frequently,
and large outcomes have turned on the invention
of a mechanical device, viz. radar.
True, valour sometimes counts for something,
as at Thermopylae. Sometimes being right -
though ultimate virtue, by agreed tradition,
is decided by the winner.
Sometimes men throw themselves on grenades
and burst like paper bags of guts
to save their comrades.
I can admire that.
But rats and cholera have won many wars.
Those, and potatoes,
or the absence of them.
It's no use pinning all those medals
across the chests of the dead.
Impressive, but I know too much.
Grand exploits merely depress me.
In the interests of research
I have walked on many battlefields
that once were liquid with pulped
men's bodies and spangled with exploded
shells and splayed bone.
All of them have been green again
by the time I got there.
Each has inspired a few good quotes in its day.
Sad marble angels brood like hens
over the grassy nests where nothing hatches.
(The angels could just as well be described as vulgar
or pitiless, depending on camera angle.)
The word glory figures a lot on gateways.
Of course I pick a flower or two
from each, and press it in the hotel Bible
for a souvenir.
I'm just as human as you.
But it's no use asking me for a final statement.
As I say, I deal in tactics.
Also statistics:
for every year of peace there have been four hundred
years of war.
Stichwörter: loneliness house morning military of historian the burned
That's why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and hold it.
EminemStichwörter: why carpe-diem try own moment to we it seize hold eminem the freeze and carpe diem squeeze that-s
I have the right to remain violente. Everything I say can and will be used against you.
EminemStichwörter: will everything right to you be say have eminem the used against concert i and remain can violente
Go to sleep!
Jeff the KillerStichwörter: jeff killer the creepypasta
All work and no play makes Matthias a dull mouse.
Brian JacquesStichwörter: reference the shining
What-what do you want?" Annabeth asked, trying to maintain a tone of confidence.
The voice cackled maliciously.
'To curse you, of course! To destroy you thousand times in the name of Mother Night!'
"Only a thousand times?" Percy murmured. "Oh, good...I thought we were in trouble.
Stichwörter: house night mother of annabeth-chase percy-jackson mother-night times hades percy annabeth thousand the chase jackson
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
Paul McCartneyStichwörter: beatles wings learn paul to take broken the fly and mccartney blackbird these
I care about strangers when they're abstractions, but I feel almost nothing when they're literally in front of me.
Chuck KlostermanStichwörter: black strangers hat care abstractions when chuck the wear i about klosterman they-re
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