War would end if the dead could return.
Stanley BaldwinSome must be warriors, that others may live in peace.
Mercedes LackeyMots clés war
You can have peace. Or you can have freedom. Don't ever count on having both at once.
Robert A. HeinleinMots clés choice freedom peace war
Yet only the atrocities of the conquered are referred to as criminal acts; those of the conqueror are justified as necessary, heroic, and even worse, as the fulfillment of God's will.
Jim FergusMots clés war indians west apaches
war grows out of desire of the individual to gain advantage at the expense of his fellow man.
Napoleon HillMots clés war
you can't say civilization dont advance, in every war they kill you in a new way
Will RogersMots clés war
The great questions of the day will not be settled by means of speeches and majority decisions but by iron and blood
Otto von BismarckMots clés war
the militay dont start wars, politicians start wars
William C. WestmorelandMots clés war
But when they made love he was offended by her eyes. They behaved as though they belonged to someone else. Someone watching. Looking out of the window at the sea. At a boat in the river. Or a passerby in the mist in a hat.
He was exasperated because he didn't know what that look meant. He put it somewhere between indifference and despair. He didn’t know that in some places, like the country that Rahel came from, various kinds of despair competed for primacy. And that personal despair could never be desperate enough. That something happened when personal turmoil dropped by at the wayside shrine of the vast, violent, circling, driving, ridiculous, insane, unfeasible, public turmoil of a nation. That Big God howled like a hot wind, and demanded obeisance. Then Small God (cozy and contained, private and limited) came away cauterized, laughing numbly at his own temerity. Inured by the confirmation of his own inconsequence, he became resilient and truly indifferent. Nothing mattered much. Nothing much mattered. And the less it mattered, the less it mattered. It was never important enough. Because Worse Things had happened. In the country that she came from, poised forever between the terror of war and the horror of peace, Worse Things kept happening.
So Small God laughed a hollow laugh, and skipped away cheerfully. Like a rich boy in shorts. He whistled, kicked stones. The source of his brittle elation was the relative smallness of his misfortune. He climbed into people’s eyes and became an exasperating expression.
Mots clés peace war despair indifference eyes personal desperation nationality public bigness exasperation smallness
the main thing is to make history not to write it
Otto von BismarckMots clés war
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