war

We ought to compliment and not to compete with one another.

Kropp on the other hand is a thinker. He proposes that a declaration of war should be a kind of popular festival with entrance-tickets and bands, like a bull fight. Then in the arena the ministers and generals of the two countries, dressed in bathing-drawers and armed with clubs, can have it out on themselves. Whoever survives the country wins. That would be much simpler and more than just this arrangement, where the wrong people do the fighting

Ultimately all kinds of fights end at forgiveness.

Wherever there is peace, there is progress.

In any war story, but especially a true one, it's difficult to separate what happened from what seemed to happen. What seems to happen becomes its own happening and has to be told that way. The angles of vision are skewed. When a booby trap explodes, you close your eyes and duck and float outside yourself. .. The pictures get jumbled, you tend to miss a lot. And then afterward, when you go to tell about it, there is always that surreal seemingness, which makes the story seem untrue, but which in fact represents the hard and exact truth as it seemed.

Peace shouldn't be an option, it must be the objective, peace shouldn't be a possibility, it must be the purpose.

I don't play with my life by talking bullshit.I might have some chances in this bitchy life,but I've got only one fuckin' chance to give...my best shot.

The first casualty when war comes is truth.

The part of her that should have been disgusted was numb.

The world isn__ big enough for all of us.

How dare you come into my home? And hurt my family? I ought to tear your throat out right here, right now!

I know you__e scared, Letti, but sweetheart_you haven__ seen anything yet. You__e not known true fear...

You can never trust a Vampire, child.

We all know what__ coming. The winds are picking up, spiralling closer and bringing with it a great wave of destruction_none of us can hide_no matter which side you choose, you__l be dragged into the line of fire and who__ to say, my friend, which of us will come out alive?

Whoever is messing with my daughter, messing with my home, will be sorry they chose to play this game. I__l be screaming checkmate before they even realise I moved my pawns_

The soft, fluttering cry of a barn owl rose over the churchyard. Silent men flowed out of the dark.

War is an infidel; it holds no loyalties, neither to king nor countryman. She is a whore, selling herself to the highest bidder. Victory is bought in blood and steel.

Like the dark clouds above that promised rain but withheld it, her presence there was a lie. For in truth, this horrific slaughter had already damned the small race; their fate had already come and gone.