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Soldier Quotes

“Home? What is home? Home is where a house is that you come back to when the rainy season is about to begin, to wait until the next dry season comes around. Home is where your woman is, that you come back to in the intervals between a greater love - the only real love - the lust for riches buried in the earth, that are your own if you can find them. Perhaps you do not call it home, even to yourself. Perhaps you call them 'my house,' 'my woman,' What if there was another 'my house,' 'my woman,' before this one? It makes no difference. This woman is enough for now. Perhaps the guns sounded too loud at Anzio or at Omaha Beach, at Guadalcanal or at Okinawa. Perhaps when they stilled again some kind of strength had been blasted from you that other men still have. And then again perhaps it was some kind of weakness that other men still have. What is strength, what is weakness, what is loyalty, what is perfidy? The guns taught only one thing, but they taught it well: of what consequence is life? Of what consequence is a man? And, therefore, of what consequence if he tramples love in one place and goes to find it in the next? The little moment that he has, let him be at peace, far from the guns and all that remind him of them. So the man who once was Bill Taylor has come back to his house, in the dusk, in the mountains, in Anahuac. ("The Moon Of Montezuma")”

“Tain Shir walks the deck of RNS Sulane between the bombs and incendiaries and steel-tipped barbs. A weapon among weapons but she alone is free. The tragedy of the knife is the hilt. The tragedy of the crossbow is the trigger. Shir has neither. She cannot be gripped nor fired. She is unmastered. The sailors are rude with her. So be it. Etiquitte is the domain of those whose power is conditional upon the respect of others, and Shir is unconditional. If she drifted alone in the void beyond the moon or if she walked among the monarchs of the ancient Cheetah Palaces she would not be altered in her capabilities or her intentions, for not one truth of her resides within a relationship to any other thing.”

“Nobility is a lie. A pretence that high standing comes from anything more than money or martial prowess. Any dolt can play the noble, and as you'll discover in time, daughter, it's mostly dolts who do.”

“She knew a part of her would always be waiting for Stuart. Even if life went on and she found someone to share her days and nights with, there would forever be a candle for him. He would always visit her in her dreams. How strange that knowledge felt, that someone who had just been in her life a handful of months could stay in her heart forever. Shouldn’t the memories last only as long as the moments had? But no, she was learning. Memories were made of something stronger than time could easily erode. It was so disproportionate, absurd even, but true all the same.”

“Growing up, I always had a soldier mentality. As a kid I wanted to be a soldier, a fighter pilot, a covert agent, professions that require a great deal of bravery and risk and putting oneself in grave danger in order to complete the mission. Even though I did not become all those things, and unless my predisposition, in its youngest years, already had me leaning towards them, the interest that was there still shaped my philosophies. To this day I honor risk and sacrifice for the good of others - my views on life and love are heavily influenced by this.”

“The Air Force was confused about what it wanted me to be when I grew up. I applied for an ROTC scholarship out of high school because I wanted to be an astronaut. None of my teachers had ever broken the news to me that I couldn’t fly into space, so the third-grade dream remained.”

“To a man, professional soldiers despised terrorists, and each would dream about getting them in an even-up-battle; the idea of the Field of Honor had never died for the real professionals. It was the place where the ultimate decision was made on the basis of courage and skill, on the basis of manhood itself, and it was this concept that marked the professional soldier as a romantic, a person who truly believed in the rules.”

“Looking toward the Polish Rider she met his calm tender gentle thoughtful gaze. She thought, what he sees is the face of death. He sees the silence of the valley, its emptiness, its innocence — and beyond it the hideous field of war on which he will die. And his poor horse will die too. He is courage, he is love, he loves what is good, and will die for it, his body will be trampled by horses' hooves, and no one will know his grave. She thought, he is so beautiful, he has the beauty of goodness.”

“Soldiers were shot outside a poet’s door and a bomber plane was on its way. So he took his manuscript, folded it, and locked it into a tin chest. There was a place east of town where it could be safely buried and found by another someday. He ran out during battle, was shot multiple times in his legs, slithered his way in a swamp of gushing muscle, and alas, could not make it. So, in desperation, he opened up the holes in his stomach and inserted the tin chest where his poems lie safe and died there. One day, a medic will read about birds that chirped on emerald trees.”

“As the breeze grew in strength they didn’t go inside, but in silence watched the surface of the water grow more and more choppy. The only quiet was between them. The sound of the ocean and gale were roaring, the coldness of the air making each inch of their skin alert. Helen’s arms around the girl tightened, and the little one in turn only sank more into Helen’s chest. Despite the thinness of her dress, Helen couldn’t pick herself up to go indoors. Perhaps it was because the wind blew from her mind the fog that had been with her for days. Maybe, Helen realized, it was because the child was curled into her and Helen simply didn’t have the strength right now to pry her away. But most of all, she knew it was because the ocean seemed a fitting place to go to say farewell.”

“The voice cut into Helen’s murky sleep, and as she cracked her eyes open, the morning sun glared through the cleft in the curtains. A woman stood over her, hands on hips. Helen felt her own fingers that dangled over the side of the bed being pulled on, and she knew Lyric was there. Squinting, she turned her head and saw the child watching her. Helen had no idea how long Lyric had been there, perhaps minutes or hours or years, as if she lived in that spot, unaging, just waiting for the curse that was cast over Helen to lift.”

“Soon you shall be landing In the battleground, ensure you have the right weapons to fight the enemy; ensure you know your enemy and what he is capable of; take them unprepared to gain the victory and stand with your head held high; show it to the world the cause you have been fighting for, deception is the key, challenge your enemy when it is least expected; break them mentally before breaking them physically. You are a soldier; your enemy is a soldier and you are facing the best, both sides have a lot of similarities only variation lies in the cause. Cause is driver for the battle; cause is binding comrades together and even if the victory is gained the cause stays undefeated. You stand defeated for your strategy, tactics and leaders but never for the cause, it’s still alive, it shall always be alive with the men who have sacrificed their lives, with the men who are still alive. They stand defeated with the physical strength but not for the cause they have believed in and you can never take it away from them. Fight for a cause and you shall stay invincible. A war story is always biased towards one side and it’s hard to narrate a true war story. We choose and make our heroes from what we have read, heard and believed in. If we know the cause both sides are standing for, it will become difficult to take sides. Always respect your enemy, respect for the fact they are standing neck to neck with you, respect them for the courage they have shown to defend the other side, their land, respect them for whatever you have earned the respect for from your men, from your country and from your people. Powerful strategies, tactics, weapons, leaders are allies to the war, they support but never claims victory all my themselves Greatest wars won always had the greater cause. Rebel without a cause is never a rebel just an aimless person whose fate lies in the defeat.”

“I cannot tell you that the sacrifice will be light: it is a serious thing to stand against the whole current of an age; it is a serious thing to be despised and hated by the generality of one's fellow men. Yet that is increasingly the lot of the truth Christian today. He will not, indeed, be inclined to complain; for he has something with which all that he has lost is not worthy to be compared; and he knows that despite temporary opposition the ultimate future belongs to him and to His Lord. But for the present he is called upon to endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. It can hardly be said that unworthy motives of self-interest can lead a man to enter into a calling in which he will win nothing but reproach.”

“Mrs. Dodge stepped forward and laid her hand on his arm. "John?" she called in a strident voice that made Arabella wince. "John, here's Arabella to see you." John rolled his head with a fitful movement, and the light from the lamp at the foot of his bed fell full across his face. Arabella stepped back with a gasp of shock.”

“Although I'm an atheist, I try not to crap all over people's belief in God. It may be nothing more than a placebo, a fairy tale that gives the hopeless hope, but sometimes a little hope is all people need to get through the day. Imagine a unit of soldiers under heavy enemy fire. They are told by their superiors to hold their position, even in the face of overwhelming fire power. The soldiers are being told that reinforcements are on the way, and that thought alone gives them the hope and courage to continue fighting, even if ultimately the reinforcements never arrive. I think some people simply need to believe that God is sending them reinforcements, to get through another day.”

“Giants in Jeans Sonnet 25 Wanna know about people's character? Walk around in shabby clothes. Wanna know who's wise, who's egotistical? Be the dumbest despite your brainforce. Never try to impress people. The more you try, the more they lose interest. Nourish your warmth and kindness instead, Those who care will reach out themselves. But always remember one little thing, You can either have life or calculation. Calculate where it's needed, But not in every situation. Lovers and soldiers are the only ones living, Rest of society is just dehydrating.”

“The meditator and the soldier are of opposite polarity in the world. The soldier is born when the soul of the person is destroyed. The soldier has been forced. controlled and manipulated to become a mechanical robot. He is reduced to an non-human entity, which has fallen below the human. He has forgotten his own freedom. Throughout the history of man soldiers have been needed, because human history has consisted of trying to conquer the world and achieve world dominion. The stupidity of trying to conquer the world has been the basic cause of the soldier, because humanity has not become mature. The whole training of the soldier is to remain immature and prevent his spiritual growth. The exact opposite polarity of the soldier is the meditator. The mediator is a growth of spiritual maturity. It means a spiritual maturity born out of love, not fear. It means a spiritual growth out of freedom, not out of slavery. This spiritual maturity of love and freedom is not imposed. It grows out his being, so that one day you will say yes to the whole existence, to life itself. Ultimately it is saying yes to God, which is the ultimate peak of love, trust, joy, truth and freedom. That is the ultimate peak of consciousness. The soldier falls below humanity, while the meditator goes above humanity.”

“My wife is alone in our full bed too. Her husband, the father of her children, never came back from Iraq. When I deployed the first time she asked her grandmother for advice. Her grandfather served in Africa and Europe in World War II. Her grandmother would know what to do. “How do I live with him being gone? How do I help him when he comes home?” my wife asked. “He won’t come home,” her grandmother answered. “The war will kill him one way or the other. I hope for you that he dies while he is there. Otherwise the war will kill him at home. With you.” My wife’s grandfather died of a heart attack on the living-room floor, long before she was born. It took a decade or two for World War II to kill him. When would my war kill me?”

“The spectacle takes us away from our routines. For at least a time, we feel part of something big, colorful, exciting. It is perhaps understandable that civilians are often more enthusiastic during wartime than soldiers who have experienced battle. The soldiers know that war is often boring and dirty as well as terrifying and colorful. Even so, after some years, an old soldier like Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., could brush aside his earlier description of the pain, boredom, and death of war and declare that “its message was divine.” The stench disappears, but the spectacle remains in memory’s eye.”

“A woman's body is a sacred temple. A work of art, and a life-giving vessel. And once she becomes a mother, her body serves as a medicine cabinet for her infant. From her milk she can nourish and heal her own child from a variety of ailments. And though women come in a wide assortment as vast as the many different types of flowers and birds, she is to reflect divinity in her essence, care and wisdom. God created a woman's heart to be a river of love, not to become a killing machine.”

“It is something that cannot be explained or even understood until you’ve lived it; a man can’t know or fully appreciate his life until he’s been close enough to taste the end of it, and the bonds forged in battle are some of the strongest a man could ever have. We are brothers, the men of ODA 022, and though we didn’t have the same blood running through our veins, we had all shed the blood of others together, and knew that none of us would hesitate to step in the way of fate and take a round or jump on a grenade to save one another.”

“My biggest hope for this work is that it will help others to remember the sacrifices made for our freedom, and even more so to remember that the men, women, and children all involved in and affected by this era were not just statistics: they were people just like we are, with the same hopes, dreams, and very imminent fears.”

“and we could be just like any other couple, stumbling home from any other party. But when you talk about wartime, what you tell me is how many stars there were, and how some boys flew a kite on the mountain. What you don't talk about is huddling with a group of soldiers in a bunker while the rockets came over the walls, how most of you by chance came out, but two did not. They were Canadian, you said offhandedly, when you'd been home for a while, and you never said it again.”