Longstreet stayed up talking, as long as there was company, as long as there was a fire. Because when the fire was gone and the dark had truly come there was no way he could avoid the dead faces of his children.

Michael Shaara

Tag: american-civil-war



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And yet suddenly, terribly, he wanted it again, the way it used to be, arms linked together, all drunk and singing beautifully into the night, with visions of death from the afternoon and dreams of death in the coming dawn, the night filled with a monstrous and temporary glittering joy, fat moments, thick seconds dropping like warm rain, jewel after jewel.

Michael Shaara


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Saw the face of Robert Lee. Incredible eyes. An honest man, a simple man. Out of date. They all ride to glory, all the plumed knights.

Michael Shaara

Tag: american-civil-war robert-e-lee



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The earth was actually shuddering. It was as if you were a baby and your mother was shuddering with cold.

Michael Shaara


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He suspended thinking; his mind was a bloody vacancy, like a room in which there has been a butchering.

Michael Shaara


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Longstreet took a deep breath. In the winter the fever had come to Richmond. In a week they were dead. All within a week, all three. He saw the sweet faces: moment of enormous pain. The thing had pushed him out of his mind, insane, but no one knew it. He had not thought God would do a thing like that...she kept standing in the door: the boy is dead. And he could not even help her, could say nothing, could not move, could not even take her into his arms. Nothing to give. One strength he did not have. Oh God: my boy is dead.

Michael Shaara


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A man who has been shot at is a new realist, and what do you say to a realist when the war is a war of ideals?

Michael Shaara


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There ought to be more than just that metallic end, and then silence, then the worms, and sometimes he believed, but just this moment he did not believe at all...there was nothing beyond the sound of the guns...not even silence, just an end.

Michael Shaara


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