Best 17621 quotes in «war quotes» category

Long before it was known to me as a place where my ancestry was even remotely involved, the idea of a state for Jews (or a Jewish state; not quite the same thing, as I failed at first to see) had been 'sold' to me as an essentially secular and democratic one. The idea was a haven for the persecuted and the survivors, a democracy in a region where the idea was poorly understood, and a place where—as Philip Roth had put it in a one-handed novel that I read when I was about nineteen—even the traffic cops and soldiers were Jews. This, like the other emphases of that novel, I could grasp. Indeed, my first visit was sponsored by a group in London called the Friends of Israel. They offered to pay my expenses, that is, if on my return I would come and speak to one of their meetings. I still haven't submitted that expenses claim. The misgivings I had were of two types, both of them ineradicable. The first and the simplest was the encounter with everyday injustice: by all means the traffic cops were Jews but so, it turned out, were the colonists and ethnic cleansers and even the torturers. It was Jewish leftist friends who insisted that I go and see towns and villages under occupation, and sit down with Palestinian Arabs who were living under house arrest—if they were lucky—or who were squatting in the ruins of their demolished homes if they were less fortunate. In Ramallah I spent the day with the beguiling Raimonda Tawil, confined to her home for committing no known crime save that of expressing her opinions. (For some reason, what I most remember is a sudden exclamation from her very restrained and respectable husband, a manager of the local bank: 'I would prefer living under a Bedouin muktar to another day of Israeli rule!' He had obviously spent some time thinking about the most revolting possible Arab alternative.) In Jerusalem I visited the Tutungi family, who could produce title deeds going back generations but who were being evicted from their apartment in the old city to make way for an expansion of the Jewish quarter. Jerusalem: that place of blood since remote antiquity. Jerusalem, over which the British and French and Russians had fought a foul war in the Crimea, and in the mid-nineteenth century, on the matter of which Christian Church could command the keys to some 'holy sepulcher.' Jerusalem, where the anti-Semite Balfour had tried to bribe the Jews with the territory of another people in order to seduce them from Bolshevism and continue the diplomacy of the Great War. Jerusalem: that pest-house in whose environs all zealots hope that an even greater and final war can be provoked. It certainly made a warped appeal to my sense of history.

Look, look at my country, look at my Kabul, my city, what is left of my city? The streets are as bare as mountains now, the buildings are as ragged as mountains and as bare and empty of life, there is no life here only fear, we do not live in the buildings now, we live in terror in the cellars in the caves in the mountains, only God can save us now, only order can save us now, only God's Law harsh and strictly administered can save us now, only The Department for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice can save us now, only terror can save us from ruin, only neverending war, save us from terror and neverending war, save my wife they are stoning my wife, they are chasing her with sticks, save my wife save my daughter from punishment by God, save us from God, from war, from exile, from oil exploration, from no oil exploration, from the West, from the children with rifles, carrying stones, only children with rifles, carrying stones, can save us now.

Lord Tierney was furious. But when he saw how his sister had suffered, his anger shifted instead toward Rome. “If it weren’t for this new menace on the horizon,” he thundered, “I’d declare war on those haughty deceivers this instant!” Marcus stepped forward. “Kyrie, I don’t think—" “Then don’t!

Los datos del Instituto Internacional de Estudios Estratégicos indican que los mayores vendedores de armas son los Estados Unidos, el Reino Unido, Francia y Rusia. En la lista, algunos lugares más atrás, también figura China. Y estos son, casualmente, los cinco países que tienen derecho de veto en el Consejo de Seguridad de las Naciones Unidas. En buen romance, el derecho de veto significa poder de decisión. La Asamblea General del máximo organismo internacional, donde están todos los países, formula recomendaciones; pero quien decide es el Consejo de Seguridad. La Asamblea habla o calla; el Consejo hace o deshace. O sea: la paz mundial está en manos de las cinco potencias que explotan el gran negocio de la guerra.

Los humanos buscan respuestas constantemente. Pero saben que no hay ninguna.

Los británicos, al igual que los estadounidenses, recuerdan la Segunda Guerra Mundial como una época en la que su mejor generación salvó al mundo de la maldad del nazismo.

Love and respect are above any law

Louie never left himself a moment to think of the war. "I just thought I was empty and now I'm being filled," he said later, "and I just wanted to keep being filled.:

Louie was furious at the sharks. He had thought that they had an understanding:The men would stay out of the sharks' turf - the water - and the sharks would stay off of theirs - the raft. That the sharks had taken shots at him when he had gone overboard, and when the raft had been mostly submerged after the strafing, had seemed fair enough. But their attempt to poach men from their reinflated raft struck Louie as dirty pool. He stewed all night, scowled hatefully at the sharks all day, and eventually made a decision. if the sharks were going to try to eat him, he was going to try to eat them.

Love conquers all. Let Love then smile at our defeat.

Love doesn't make bullets. It doesn't drop bombs. Only hate does that - driven by fear.

Love fights with a kiss; hate fights with a fist.

Love hadn’t existed in this world. Only hate, deceit and lies, but by letting him in I’d let all of that crumble. By letting me in he’d done the same, and now we were engaged in an even deadlier game than before.

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Love is a better weapon than war.

Love is a reliable soldier on the war on hate.

Love is a conquest! Love is war!

Love is not a justification for war. Anyone who uses it as such doesn't know squat about being human.

Love' is the answer, there is no question about that

Love is the reflection of a broken heart in a shattered mirror...

Love is the only way. There has been enough pain, enough war, enough killing. Enough. No more.

Love is what makes two people sit in the middle of a bench when there is plenty of room at both ends. Love means nothing in tennis,But it's everything in life

Love' is the only weapon I have, I will defend with love, I will attack with love.

Love is winning the war without starting the war. (L'amour, c'est gagner la guerre - Sans commencer la guerre)

Love must risk all or perish.

Love wins when reflections win over reflexes.

Luck often comes to those who are brave.

Lyndon Johnson bared his scars, American. . . stars 'n bars.

L'unica rivoluzione che serve è quella dentro di te. Le altre si ripetono in maniera costante, perché al fondo c'è la natura dell'uomo. E se l'uomo non cambia, se l'uomo non fa questo salto di qualità, se l'uomo non rinuncia alla violenza, al dominio della materia, al profitto, all'interesse, tutto si ripete.

Lying half-asleep in his embrace, I looked up and saw on his face the same expression I saw on countless lonely faces every day. It was the homesick look of the children who were lost in the chaos of warfare, witnessing death and disaster, longing for a meaningful touch.

Make your enemies bleed.

Make not the scars of yesterday Make you bitter today Yesterday has passed And like water in a river once passed Can never be returned The KhoiSan Book of Wisdom

Making history was never the aim of the Norwegian saboteurs, nor of the British sappers who were sent before them. After the war, the sacrifice of the British Royal Engineers and RAF crews of the ill-fated Operation Freshman was not forgotten. Thirty-seven bodies were recovered and buried at gravesites in Norway. Bill Bray’s headstone reads, "To live in the hearts of those that loved me is not to die.

Maman never told me what to do when the world falls apart like a dress ripped at its seams, the beads scattering into faraway corners, the fabric a storm of shredded pieces left destroyed and unrecognizable. She never told me how to battle the nightmares that creep in like icy shadows, lingering behind closed eyes. She never told me what to do when all the color leaks out of the world like blood oozing from a mortal wound.

Magistrate: May I die a thousand deaths ere I obey one who wears a veil! Lysistrata: If that's all that troubles you, here take my veil, wrap it round your head, and hold your tounge. Then take this basket; put on a girdle, card wool, munch beans. The War shall be women's business.

Magistrate: What do you propose to do then, pray? Lysistrata: You ask me that! Why, we propose to administer the treasury ourselves Magistrate: You do? Lysistrata: What is there in that a surprise to you? Do we not administer the budget of household expenses? Magistrate: But that is not the same thing. Lysistrata: How so – not the same thing? Magistrate: It is the treasury supplies the expenses of the War. Lysistrata: That's our first principle – no War!

Mal was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “I’m not sure who my first kill was. We were hunting the stag when we ran into a Fjerdan patrol on the northern border. I don’t think the fight lasted more than a few minutes, but I killed three men. They were doing a job, same as I was, trying to get through one day to the next, then they were bleeding in the snow. No way to tell who was the first to fall, and I’m not sure it matters. You keep them at a distance. The faces start to blur.” “Really?” “No.

Man kept control over the machines he created, I wish God would have done the same with the man he created.

Mankind must put an end to war or war will put an end to mankind.

Man may change, government may change, people may change but Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.

Many call it the 1000 yard stare and can't realize the pain when PTSD takes us there

Ma noi avevamo fatto finta di essere bambini normali, di quelli che non pensano a niente e sanno giocare.

Man's panic does not produce God's power.....sometimes you need to pray before you post on social media.

Many more have died of attempting love than victory, and countless numbers hate love more than war. Honor has often been the dear prize awarded to the killers of lovers. The epics of war have always and still outnumber the epics of love. For those who love deeply and greatly gain a clairvoyant, excruciating awareness of the fear and suffering of the world along with their joy, which few warriors could endure. Who is not more truly afraid of a love story than of a tale of war?

Many want to be a warrior but they don't know what a lonely, tough, or pain staking journey it is. Warriors have to fight on behalf of the defenseless, defend what is right, as well as fight believers and non-believers alike. In reality, few like warriors because they confront their own, and their own think they're above being confronted. The warrior, you see, most often walks alone.

Many veterans feel guilty because they lived while others died. Some feel ashamed because they didn’t bring all their men home and wonder what they could have done differently to save them. When they get home they wonder if there’s something wrong with them because they find war repugnant but also thrilling. They hate it and miss it.Many of their self-judgments go to extremes. A comrade died because he stepped on an improvised explosive device and his commander feels unrelenting guilt because he didn’t go down a different street. Insurgents used women and children as shields, and soldiers and Marines feel a totalistic black stain on themselves because of an innocent child’s face, killed in the firefight. The self-condemnation can be crippling. The Moral Injury, New York Times. Feb 17, 2015

Mary Welland was certainly lovely. She was gentle and kind. She remained my friend all the time I was in hospital. But there is a world of difference falling in love with a voice and remaining in love with a person you can see. From the moment I opened my eyes, Mary became a human instead of a dream and my passion evaporated.

Marvelous, isn’t it, how these Germans can shoot back at us even when they’re fucking dead.

Matar al enemigo, aunque su muerte ya no tenga sentido... Así es la guerra. El odio genera odio hasta que no resta más para destruir.

Ma quando vado a vedere un film di guerra, tutto mi sembra un po' falso. Lo stesso quando leggo un libro. O piuttosto, se non proprio falso non del tutto vero, non precisamente come andavano in realtà le cose.