It’s a cruel fact of war that it takes little more than applying pressure to one finger to end another person’s life. More than that, it’s a cruel fact of life that we are hardwired…
He had also learned that there is no use murdering people; there are always so many left, and if you tried to murder them all you would never get anything else done.
If water won’t smother the blazeFather, take my tears and bestow them on the firesee if the fires will wither.
For twenty-five years I’ve been speaking and writing in defense of your right to happiness in this world, condemning your inability to take what is your due, to secure what you won in bloody battles…
There were nine casualties during the battle of Kirkuk. My husband was among them.
The veneer of civilization fell away to reveal desperate animals, humanity at their worst.
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Now beginFamines of thought and feeling.
You shall not hear their mirth:You shall not come to think them well contentBy any jest of mine. These men are worthYour tears:You are not worth their merriment.
I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears; and caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts; and buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts; and rusted every bayonet with His tears.
Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shout”I see your lights!” But ours had long died out.
Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.No soldier’s paid to kick against His powers.We laughed, — knowing that better men would come,And greater wars: when each…
Escape? There is one unwatched way: your eyes. O Beauty! Keep me good that secret gate.
But the old man would not so, but slew his son,And half the seed of Europe, one by one.
The old Lie:Dulce et decorum estPro patria mori.
The universal pervasion of ugliness, hideous landscapes, vile noises, foul language…everything. Unnatural, broken, blasted; the distortion of the dead, whose unburiable bodies sit outside the dug outs all day, all night, the most execrable sights…
Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep.…
Dulce Et Decorum EstBent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge.…
These men are worth your tears. You are not worth their merriment.
There is a comfort in conformity, a security in control, that is appealing. There is a thrill in domination, and we are all secretly attracted to violence.
As long as a population can be induced to believe in a supernatural hereafter, it can be oppressed and controlled. People will put up with all sorts of tyranny, poverty, and painful treatment if they’re…
This world is so full of wars and hostilities. All parties seek for allies to defeat enemies. I support peace effort towards mastermind which has caused men hostile to each other.
Whoever won the wars in heavens, He is The God of men today.
Selfrighteous creates wars more often than other reasons.
Sometimes violence is necessary to prevent even more violence,” I concluded, almost as if it were an epiphany.
There is no conscience in a real war.
Price of peace could only be valued by people who had suffered loss in the war.