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Quote by Steven Magee

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Steven Magee

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“The Battle of Long Island was a disaster for George Washington’s army. His ten thousand troops were crushed by the British and its four-hundred-ship fleet. But it could have been so much worse. It could have been the end of the Revolutionary War. All the British had to do was sail up the East River and Washington’s cornered troops would have been wiped out. But it never happened, because the wind wasn’t blowing in the right direction and sailing up the river became impossible. Historian David McCullough once told interviewer Charlie Rose that “if the wind had been in the other direction on the night of August twenty-eighth [1776], I think it would have all been over.” “No United States of America if that had happened?” Rose asked. “I don’t think so,” said McCullough. “Just because of the wind, history was changed?” asked Rose. “Absolutely,” said McCullough.”

WarHistoryLuck
Book:Same as Ever: A Guide to What Never Changes
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“Guns Are Viagra (Sonnet 1262) Indifference does more damage than inhumanity, For animals can't be expected to be human. Humans are human when they are accountable, Passive spectators are worse than inhuman. Silence of the peacelovers is more damaging than violence of the warmongers. Till the very thought of guns makes you sick, you are only playing make believe peacekeepers. Guns are just viagra for the impotent, Bullets are but crutches for centipedes. When there's no substance in mind and spine, Monkeys tend to cower behind semiautomatics. More backward a country, more its fascination with guns and bombs. That's why you cannot imagine a hero, without a gun in their hands. Real heroes don't carry guns, Real heroes don't wear capes. Wearing a smile, carrying a spine, Real heroes work to rescue peace, from the clutches of states.”

WarMilitaryHumanitarianPatriotismNonviolenceWorld PeacePeace ActivistGunsGeopoliticsGun Violence
Book:Yaralardan Yangın Doğar: Explorers of Night are Emperors of Dawn
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“Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.”

PoetryOcean
Book:The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Other Poems
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