10,941 Quotes About War

Men marched away, Vimes. And men marched back. How glorious the battles would have been that they never had to fight!

We have lost all sense of other considerations, because they are artificial. Only the facts are real and important to us. And good boots are hard to come by." - All Quiet On The Western Front, Ch. 2

But there was definitely something going on. Helen had agreed. With Harry and Sly taking off before they even ate dinner that night before, there had to be. I’m glad I have Joanie and the others. I need the support, and the calming influence. They are just the ones to give me peace. Just as she was about to drift off with that comforting thought, the front door flew open and Joan burst in breathless. “Annie!” she said, turning to her. “I think that Nazi guy is right here in town!

Beside us lies a fair-headed recruit in utter terror. He has buried his face in his hands, his helmet has fallen off. I fish hold of it and try to put it back on his head. He looks up, pushes the helmet off and like a child creeps under my arm, his head close to my breast. The little shoulders heave. Shoulders just like Kemmerich's. I let him be.

كانت أحاديث السهرة تدورفقلت :حدثونا عن غير الموتقالوا: نحكي عن الحربقلت: عن غير الحربقالوا: نحكي عن دموع المشردينقلت: عن غير دموعهمقالوا: عن المنتظرينقلت: عن غير المنتظرينقالوا: لا نعرف غير هذا فعمّ نحكيقلت: اسهروا كما تسهر الحيطانلا تتكلموا عن شيءوانظروا بعضكم الى بعضعلّ الوجوه تتحادث

I was a coward. I went to the war.

No honest journalist should be willing to describe himself or herself as 'embedded.' To say, 'I'm an embedded journalist' is to say, 'I'm a government Propagandist.

Darwinism by itself did not produce the Holocaust, but without Darwinism... neither Hitler nor his Nazi followers would have had the necessary scientific underpinnings to convince themselves and their collaborators that one of the worlds greatest atrocities was really morally praiseworthy.

Nothing feeds forgetfulness better than war.... We all keep quiet and they try to convince us that what we've seen, what we've done, what we've learned about ourselves and about others, is an illusion, a passing nightmare. Wars have no memory, and nobody has the courage to understand them until there are no voices left to tell what happened, until the moment comes when we no longer recognize them and they return, with another face and another name, to devour what they left behind.