I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.
If I had my choice I would kill every reporter in the world, but I am sure we would be getting reports from Hell before breakfast.
War is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over.
The more Indians we can kill... the less will have to be killed the next war, for the more I see of these Indians, the more convinced I am that they all have to be killed or be maintained as a species of paupers.
War is the remedy that our enemies have chosen, and I say let us give them all they want.
We must act with vindictive earnestness against the Sioux, even to their extermination, men, women and children... during an assault, the soldiers cannot pause to distinguish between male and female, or even discriminate as to age.
Courage - a perfect sensibility of the measure of danger, and a mental willingness to endure it.
The North can make a steam engine, locomotive or railway car; hardly a yard of cloth or a pair of shoes can you make. You are rushing into war with one of the most powerful, ingeniously mechanical and determined people on earth - right at your doors. You are bound to fail. Only in spirit and determination are you prepared for war. In all else you are totally unprepared, with a bad cause to start with.
We can make war so terrible and make them so sick of war that generations pass away before they again appeal to it.
I hate newspapermen. They come into camp and pick up their camp rumors and print them as facts. I regard them as spies, which, in truth, they are.
The carping and bickering of political factions in the nation's capital reminds me of two pelicans quarreling over a dead fish.
I would make this war as severe as possible, and show no symptoms of tiring till the South begs for mercy.
The only good Indian is a dead Indian
I make up my opinions from facts and reasoning, and not to suit any body but myself. If people don't like my opinions, it makes little difference as I don't solicit their opinions or votes.
Every attempt to make war easy and safe will result in humiliation and disaster.
You people of the South don't know what you are doing. This country will be drenched in blood, and God only knows how it will end.
In our Country... one class of men makes war and leaves another to fight it out.
Grant stood by me when I was crazy, and I stood by him when he was drunk, and now we stand by each other.
To those who would submit to the rightful law and authority, all gentleness and forbearance; but to the petulant and persistent secessionists, why, death is mercy, and the quicker he or she is disposed of the better. Satan and the rebellious saints of Heaven were allowed a continuous existence in hell merely to swell their just punishment. To such as would rebel against a Government so mild and just as ours was in peace, a punishment equal would not be unjust.
We cannot change the hearts of the people of the South, but we can make war so terrible that they will realize the fact that however brave and gallant and devoted to their country still they are mortal and should exhaust all peaceful remedies before they fly to war.
The young bloods of the South: sons of planters, lawyers about towns, good billiard-players and sportsmen, men who never did any work and never will... They are splendid riders, first-rate shots and utterly reckless. These men must all be killed or employed by us before we can hope for peace.
My aim, then, was to whip the rebels, to humble their pride, to follow them to their inmost recesses, and make them fear and dread us. Fear is the beginning of wisdom.
The way to success is strategically along the way of least expectation and tactically along the line of least resistance.
We have good corporals and good sergeants and some good lieutenants and captains, and those are far more important than good generals.
I confess, without shame, that I am sick and tired of fighting — its glory is all moonshine; even success the most brilliant is over dead and mangled bodies, with the anguish and lamentations of distant families, appealing to me for sons, husbands, and fathers ... it is only those who have never heard a shot, never heard the shriek and groans of the wounded and lacerated ... that cry aloud for more blood, more vengeance, more desolation.
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