All efforts to make politics aesthetic culminate in one thing, war.
Better a cautious commander, and not a rash one.
I can testify to what UNICEF means to children because I was among those who received food and medical relief right after World War II.
Poetry, is a life long war waged against ineffable beauty.
Poets are souls at war with words from battles waged within.
Our nuclear scientists and engineers have done a splendid job, and naturally, the entire nation has risen to salute their professional excellence, discipline, and patriotism.
My poetry is a declaration of war, not an exordium to defeat. It is not the defeated soldier’s drumbeat of despair, but the fighting warrior’s will to win. It is not the de- spirited voice of dejection but the stirring shout of victory.
We are unnecessarily wasting our precious resources in wars… if we must wage war, we have to do it on unemployment, disease, poverty, and backwardness.
In the euphoria after the Cold War, there was a misplaced notion that the UN could solve every problem anywhere.
It often happens that less depends upon the valor of an army than the skill of the leader.
Men of sense often learn from their enemies. It is from their foes, not their friends, that cities learn the lesson of building high walls and ships of war; and this lesson saves their children, their homes, and their properties.
War is a blessing compared with national degradation.
Nullification means insurrection and war; and the other states have a right to put it down.
My dynamite will sooner lead to peace than a thousand world conventions. As soon as men will find that in one instant, whole armies can be utterly destroyed, they surely will abide by golden peace.
The day when two army corps can annihilate each other in one second, all civilized nations, it is to be hoped, will recoil from war and discharge their troops.
The savants will write excellent volumes. There will be laureates. But wars will continue just the same until the forces of the circumstances render them impossible.
The first time I saw nitroglycerine was at the beginning of the Crimean War. Professor Zinin in St. Petersburg exhibited some to my father and me, and struck some on an anvil to show that only the part touched by the hammer exploded without spreading.
War is not the continuation of politics with different means, it is the greatest mass- crime perpetrated on the community of man.
War is organized murder and torture against our brothers.
To all those who walk the path of human cooperation war must appear loathsome and inhuman.