Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!
Cry "havoc!" and let loose the dogs of war, That this foul deed shall smell above the earth With carrion men, groaning for burial.
Organize, agitate, educate, must be our war cry.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall with our English dead.
We have met the enemy and they are ours.
If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.
There never was a good war or a bad revolution.
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds.
Even when I am gone, I shall remain in people's minds the star of their rights, my name will be the war cry of their efforts, the motto of their hopes.
Right," said Fat Charlie conversationally. "You realize, of course, that this means war." It was the traditional war cry of a rabbit when pushed too far.
Are we all ready? (Deimos) (Letting out a blood-chilling war cry, he and the rest of the Dolophoni ran through the caverns.) I hate their dramatics…and their decibel level. (M'Adoc)
Sharley felt his strength ebbing away, and his weak leg throbbed painfully, but then a tingling sensation thrilled through his frame and the fighting blood of the Lindenshield clan began to roar through his veins. He drew breath and out crashed the war cry of the icemark.
...and suddenly it occurred to him that the birds, whose twitters and repeated songs sounded so pretty and affirming of nature and the coming day, might actually, in a code known only to other birds, be the birds each saying 'Get away' or 'This branch is mine!' or 'This tree is mine! I'll kill you! Kill, kill!' Or any other manner of dark, brutal, or self-protective stuff—they might be listening to war cries. The thought came from nowhere and made his spirits dip for some reason.
Do not give a war cry, do not raise your voices, do not say a word until the day I tell you to shout. Then shout!
Monopoly and privilege must be destroyed, opportunity afforded, and competition encouraged. This is Liberty's work, and Down with Authority her war-cry.
I feel great about [War Cries regular series]. It's my third year with the show and every season the part's sort of increased and gotten more and more interesting so I'm really thrilled to just be more a part of things.
Buried was the bloody hatchet; Buried was the dreadful war-club; Buried were all warlike weapons, And the war-cry was forgotten. Then was peace among the nations.
Whatever the label on the parties, or the war cries issuing from the demagogues who lead them, the practical choice is between the plutocracy on the one side and a rabble of preposterous impossibilists on the other.
or simply:
