Here today we huddle tight As the darkest heathens might The snow falls chilly on our skin The snow is forcing its way in. Hush, snow, come in with us to dwell: We were thrown out by Heaven as well.
The storm that bends the birch trees Is held to be violent But how about the storm That bends the backs of the roadworkers?
One cannot be arraigned for declaring a war, which every ruler has to do once in a while, but only for running a war badly.
Sometimes I have visions of myself driving through hell, selling sulphur and brimstone, or through heaven peddling refreshments to the roaming souls. If me and the children I've got left could find a place where there's no shooting, I wouldn't mind a few years of peace and quiet.
The righteous one has no sense of humor.
There are many elements to a campaign. Leadership is number one. Everything else is number two.
When the house of a great one collapses Many little ones are slain.
General, your tank is a powerful vehicle it smashes down forests and crushes a hundred men. but it has one defect: it needs a driver.
When you name yourself, you always name another.
What rapture, oh, it is to know A good thing when you see it And having seen a good thing, oh, What rapture 'tis to flee it.
The mill wheel turns, it turns forever, though what is uppermost remains not so.
A good soldier has his heart and soul in it. When he receives an order, he gets a hard on, and when he drives his lance through his enemy's guts, he comes.
Who fights may lose, but who does not fight has lost already.
I don't know what a man is. Only that every man has his price.
Even hatred of vileness Distorts a mans features.
What they could do with 'round here is a good war. What else can you expect with peace running wild all over the place? You know what the trouble with peace is? No organization.
Schoenberg is too melodious for me, too sweet.
Something ignoble, loathsome, undignified attends all associations between people and has been transferred to all objects, dwelling, tools, even the landscape itself.
Their peace and their war Are like wind and storm. War grows from their peace.
The man who laughs has simply not yet had the terrible news.
Love is also like a coconut which is good while it is fresh, but you have to spit it out when the juice is gone, what's left tastes bitter.
When the praying does no good, insurance does help.
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