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Quote by Abhijit Naskar

“Book of Destiny (The Sonnet) The book of destiny is the being, Who doesn't believe in destiny. The epitome of victory is the one, Who doesn't care for victory. Victory and destiny all are born, Of the sweat and blood of the determined. Annihilate the self for a purpose, And you'll be the icon of universal uplift. You don't fall by falling at someone's feet, You fall by climbing on top of others' head. You don't rise by being superior to others, But by losing sense of high 'n low divisiveness. Mark me well, human is neither person nor species. Designation Human is the highest of all responsibilities.”

Quote by Abhijit Naskar

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Bulldozer on Duty

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Abhijit Naskar

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“I’ve been in enough battles to know when I’ve found one I can’t win.” “So you flee?” Evi said. “Like a coward?” “The coward,” Dalinar said, gathering his maps, “is the man who delays a necessary retreat for fear of being mocked. We’ll go back to Kholinar after I deal with the rebellion at the Rift. I’ll promise you at least a year there.” “Really?” Evi said, standing up. “Yes. You’ve won this fight.” “I … don’t feel like I’ve won.…” “Welcome to war, Evi,” Dalinar said, heading toward the door. “There are no unequivocal wins. Just victories that leave fewer of your friends dead than others.”

“Liam eventually added, "I don't want a war, but if it comes, yes; I want to see it." My first impulse was to tell him, "no, he didn't want to see it," It was wrong of me to say though. He did want to see it. I think many people who haven't seen a war want to. It's not right to tell them they don't. What they don't want and don't know is that they don't want to have seen it. I know because I've seen bits and pieces of several. I watched from a hilltop as a Roman legion met Picts. I tended some of the wounded out of Gettysburg. I even managed to screw up and go down the hill to drag French knights out of the mud at Agincor and I know I don't want to see another war. But I don't even want to have seen the ones I have been to. Here in Karvalen, I have seen a small war. More like a few major engagements in a larger campaign I suppose. Even so, the dead littered the battlefield like corn after a hailstorm. Wounded screamed their agony or cried in despair, those with the strength left. Some lay in pools of their own juices and gasped in short quick breaths. Fearing the last one would come all too soon. The mud was dirt and blood. The smell of guts and feces was thick in the sunshine and birds pecked at sightless eyes. That was victory. I stared at my son and wondered how I could explain it. How could I make his sixteen year old mind comprehend.”