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Soldiers Quotes

Browse 277 quotes about Soldiers.

Soldiers Quotes

“Helen looked around the room as though if he just looked too, he would see it. Would see the memories that she faced in every corner. She wanted to explain, but instead, her mind darted to the last time she had visited home, the Christmas before when she and her parents had only given gifts to fill the bomb shelter. The bleakness of war had penetrated their house that night, the depressing presents and rationed food nothing compared to the vacant seats around the table. The quietness had choked them. Now its fingers curled only around her throat.”

“[The Church] has lived through its early travails and has now come to accept an easier way of life. It is content to carry on its painless program with enough money to pay its bills and a membership large enough to assure its future. Its members now look to it for security rather than for guidance in the battle between good and evil. It has become a school instead of a barracks. Its members are students, not soldiers. They study the experiences of others instead of seeking new experiences of their own.”

“Sura gyorsan összebarátkozott az újonnan érkezőkkel, Már teljesen meg is feledkezett a közöttük tátongó korkülönbségről, Egy alkalommal, amikor az ifjak elmentek újratölteni az italokat, maguk maradtak Tatjával. A fiatal nő barátságosan megfogta Sura kezét, majd így szólt: - Kedves Alekszandra Julianovna, bárcsak több időt tölthetnél itt. Ó, annyit mulathatnánk együtt. Sura ugyanolyan őszinteséggel válaszolt. - El tudom képzelni, Tatjána Tchoupilkina... - A közeli barátaim Tatyának hívnak. - Rendben van, Tatya. - Sajnos Dzselil és Kurt Szejit nemsoká távoynak Moszkvából. - Gyakran jönnek ide ? - Nem igazán. Soha nem tudni, hogy mikor tévednek ide legközelebb. Ahova a cár megy, oda szólítja őket a kötelesség. Nem mondhatnám, hogy unalmas életük van. Erre élénken felkacagott. - Tudod mit, kedves Alekszandra... - Szólíts nyugodtan Surának. Tatjána tovább kacagott. - Igen, kedves Sura, tudod mit ? Ha nem volnék balerina, akkor azt kívánnám, hadd lehessek az ő helyükben. Sura nem értette, hogy miért akarna a férfiak helyébe lépni egy ilyen híres és tündérszép hölgy, aki könnyedén elbűvölte a másik nem tagjait. Kérdő pillantást vetett felé, melytől Tatjána ismét elnevette magát.”

“La senda me moja bajo los ojos que se hacen agua, y el viento se va salado con la sal de tantas lágrimas. A lamer el río la sangre se estira en lenguas de llamas. El agua del río huele a un millón de puñaladas, y las naciones de Europa con tanta sangre se bañan, y sus mentiras condensan en esta mentira clásica: son hombres que dan su vida por sus banderas y patrias... Under eyes that become water the road wets me, and the wind leaves salted with the salt of so many tears. To lick the river, the blood stretches in tongues of flames. The water of the river smells of a million stab wounds, and the nations of Europe bathe with so much blood, and their lies condense in this classic lie: they are men who give their lives for their flags and countries... ("Ochenta Mil/Eighty Thousand")”

“Toby looked so miserable the soldiers gathered around him for support. They sang a revised version of their company song: Buckle for your dust, boys, no flakey diddy-bopping. Stay tight, and fight the Grimhilda Red Alert. The second line was adaptable to any situation: the day before it had included references to grizzly bears.”

“Richard rubbed his temples. He had a headache from lack of sleep. "Don't you understand? This isn't about conquering lands and taking things from others; this is about fighting oppression." The general rested a boot on the gilded rung of a chair and hooked a thumb behind his wide belt. "I don't see much difference. From my experience, the Master Rahl always thinks he knows best, and always wants to rule the world. You are your father's son. War is war. Reasons make no difference to us; we fight because we are told to, same as those on the other side. Reasons mean little to a man swinging his sword, trying to keep his head.”

“His hand went into the skimmer's hull, an inch from her head. She didn't flinch. She turned her head slowly, trying to pretend her heart wasn't slamming against her chest. 'You missed,' she said calmly. Nehza pulled his hand away from the hull. Blood trickled down his knuckles from four crimson fots. She should have been afraid, but when she searched his face, she couldn't find a shred of anger. Just fear. She had no respect for fear. 'I don't want to hurt you,' he said. 'Of, trust me.' Her lip curled. 'You couldn't.”

“A Dutchman stepped out of his house and asked two British Soldiers if they would like a cup of tea. A little further back along the route they had come, the bodies of British paratroopers lay 'everywhere, many of them behind trees or poles', Albert Horstman of the Arnhem underground recorded. He then saw 'a man about middle-aged, who wore a hat. This man went to every dead soldier, lifted his hat and stood in silence for a few seconds.”

“Civil War armies were the most literate in history to that time. More than 90 percent of white Union soldiers and more than 80 percent of Confederate soldiers were literate, and most of them wrote frequent letters to families and friends... I am convinced that [their letters and diaries] bring us closer to the real thoughts and emotions of those men than any other kind of surviving evidence.”

“Dear Beloved woman, Time… so much time has passed since my love wrote his last words for me. And yet I remember it as if it were yesterday. I remember writing back and for the first time since I had left home I told my love what kind of darkness surrounded me here. I forgot all the sweet things my father had said to my mother when he was away. I forgot how they got her through all those long and lonely nights.”

“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.”

“I came back to Rome, so I could send the book off and finish the sixteen drawings. I read the thing over before I took a bath, and darned if I didn't like it pretty well, even though it may be full of bad grammar. Now I've had the bath and the sixteen drawings are almost finished, and somehow I miss the aid station. It was pretty safe under the cliff, and it was warm and we were able to make coffee. It was full of homesick, tired men who were doing the job they were put there to do, and who had the guts and humanness to kid around and try to make life easier for the other guy. They are big men and honest men, with the inner warmth that comes from the generosity and simplicity you learn up there. Until the doc can go back to his chrome office and gallstones and the dogface can go back to his farm and I can go back to my wife and son, that is the closest to home we can ever get.”

“Before the first streaks of light at dawn on December 7, 275 miles north of Oahu, the six (Japanese) carriers of the Striking Force turned into the southeast wind. Pounding into heavy swells at high speed, the carriers pitched severely with thunderous impact. The wind, surging seas, and roar of warming aircraft engines made communications possible only by hand signals and handheld signal lamps. Salt spray reached the high flight decks, and Commander Fuchida, the group leader, was very concerned about the conditions for launching planes. If this had been a training exercise the launch might have been delayed until conditions improved. However, this was not an exercise, and there would be no delay.”

“Mind", can't make differences between real and not..., (OFF NOW THAT..., then that...), you are saying lie after lie..., then believing in false stuff. And thinking in positive sides so to scream not much as the other do, but as always you one moment scream you can't stop it... Now putting against me a knife and saying "Go away... give me my daughter... give me her back"..., don't you see the people laugh at you, don't you see it. Look their faces, with so many smiles, but they aren't people, they are from the army, off, off for god sake they are soldiers which have guns. Have killed few people, have taken your daughter and they are many as a number than you and your whole family... Probably this part as an General I must skip it, because it's logical however look it and from this side, nobody will sacrifice so you to be happy... you will die.. O, o, the poor little girl crying in front of the people, she just saw her mother pointing with a knife against the soldiers and now she is killed by one of the soldiers.”

“There are two types of memory frequently experienced by individuals who have had overwhelming trauma that has been suppressed psychologically or chemically. The first is general memory, experienced as an adult, in which there is a natural recall of early events. The other is the memory that is often associated with post traumatic stress syndrome (PTSS). The person suddenly smells, sees and feels as though he or she is actually living the event that took place months or years earlier. Many soldiers who survived horrifying combat experiences have PTSS. This has frequently been discussed in terms of Vietnam veterans who suddenly mentally find themselves in the jungle, hiding from the enemy or assaulting people they see as a threat. The fact that they have not been in Vietnam for decades and that they are experiencing the flashbacks in shopping malls, at home or at work does not change what they are mentally reliving. But PTSS has existed for centuries and has affected men, women and children in the midst of all wars, horrifying natural disasters and other traumatic experiences. This includes physical and sexual abuse when growing up. the PTSS Cheryl was experiencing more and more frequently, in which she found herself seeing, feeling and re-experiencing events from her childhood and adolescence had become overwhelming. She knew she needed to get help.”

“If we want to benefit most from our suffering, by prayer and meditation, we will approach our suffering as a good soldier approaches war. What do I mean by that? A good soldier who has trained and trained is not surprised when he fins himself in war! He has been trained for it. Likewise, consider it your Job to be be prepared to suffer. That puts a whole different cast on Sunday morning, doesn't it? You are gathering with God's people Lord's Day after Lord's Day to train as good soldiers of Jesus Christ so that when your time of trial and testing sand suffering comes, you will be ready.”

“Admiral Nelson won the great Battle of Trafalgar against the French during the Napoleonic Wars. The Viscount of Camperdown, who also won many battles during that period, was one of the admirals under Nelson. The Viscount of Canperdown's family crest had a ship with full sails on it and with two little Latin words: Disce pai—"Lean to suffer." That is precisely what Peter and Paul and Job and Moses and Jesus would say to you and me as believers in the fallen world. "Learn to suffer.”

“Anybody with martial training and engineering skills can be a superhero, but that doesn’t make them a hero. Superhero culture is dangerous, for it facilitates a paradigm of secret identity. And consistent practice of such secrecy eventually ruins an individual's accountability. You don't see soldiers hiding their identity do you, no matter how much they've got to lose!”

“What does freedom mean? It means warriors are fighting for you, defenses are protecting you, and soldiers are sacrificing to preserve your ability to speak, to act, to live, and to express yourself in a world where a great many aggressors would oppress those freedoms if not for the heroic resistance preventing them.”

“He wrote of the ordinary soldiers, the 'dogfaces,' and their bravery, and their misery, and the terribleness of their deaths. 'Dead men had been coming down the mountain all evening, lashed onto the backs of mules,' he wrote from Italy, describing a soldier who stopped to sit by the body of a captain, holding the dead man's hand. 'Finally he put the hand down. He reached up and gently straightened the points of the captain's shirt collar, and then he sort of rearranged the tattered edges of his uniform around the wound, and then he got up and walked away down the road in the moonlight, all alone.”

“Falaki maana yake ni kundi la nyota na sayari ikiwemo dunia. Falaki yetu inaitwa Njiamaziwa, ‘the Milky Way galaxy’, yenye mabilioni ya mifumo ya jua ukiwemo wa kwetu. Mungu alisimamisha jua katika falaki ya Njiamaziwa kwa ajili ya Yoshua, ili apate muda wa kutosha kuwashinda maadui zake – wanajeshi wa mataifa matano. Kila mtu alishangaa sana kipindi hicho. Kila mtu anashangaa sana kipindi hiki. Mungu akikubariki watu watasema wewe ni mchawi. Hawatajua nini kilitokea. Kwani kwa Mungu hakuna kinachoshindikana. Mungu aliweza kutenda miujiza kwa ajili ya Yoshua, na kwa ajili ya wana wa Israeli huko Gibeoni na huko Aiyaloni, anaweza kutenda miujiza kwa ajili yako popote pale ulipo. Mungu anachotaka kutoka kwako ni imani ya kweli juu yake, kwa mwili na kwa roho yako yote.”

“Nowadays you have to be a scientist if you want to be a killer. No, no, I was neither. Ladies and gentleman of the jury, the majority of sex offenders that hanker for some throbbing, sweet-moaning, physical but not necessarily coital, relation with a girl-child, are innocuous, inadequate, passive, timid strangers who merely ask the community to allow them to pursue their practically harmless, so-called aberrant behavior, their little hot wet private acts of sexual deviation without the police and society cracking down upon them. We are not sex fiends! We do not rape as good soldiers do. We are unhappy, mild, dog-eyed gentlemen, sufficiently well integrated to control our urge in the presence of adults, but ready to give years and years of life for one chance to touch a nymphet. Emphatically, no killers are we. Poets never kill.”