I was enjoying the great human trophy hunt and, looking back, it scares the hell out of me

I wasn't writing home. I wasn't writing a death letter, either. I was writing a death journal, a piece of fiction meant for my family and my fiancee, Sara.

Most likely, they were writing the same type of macho bullshit that I wrote, trying to sound tough with their words in case words were all that made it home.

Unfortunately, just like bullets, you can never get words back once they have been sent out into the world.

War becomes a part of you. It is a feeling just as much as an experience. If you can’t feel it, you weren’t paying attention. And if you weren’t paying attention, you are probably dead anyway.

I wanted to see my family, but didn't want to leave the other guys. The people waiting for us were strangers, even though I knew every last one of them.

No matter what the reason, the ways I tried to justify the situation, the second-guessing that lingered, nothing could change the fact that people stopped existing because of me.

Who supports the troops? The troops support the troops.

I wanted people to know that we fired rounds into moving trucks and open windows to survive, not for anyone else’s freedom. Not for the Democrats. Not for Republicans. Just to survive.

I believe in the limitlessness of humans. We're capable of incredible things. At times, that realization is frightening.

The highest endeavor of the mind, and the highest virtue, it to understand things by intuition.

I've banged my head quite a bit. I liked Iron Maiden, Ozzy, AC/DC. And of course, Ratt and Poison.

Then followed that beautiful season... Summer.... Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.

Whatever precautions you take so the photograph will look like this or that, there comes a moment when the photograph surprises you. It is the other's gaze that wins out and decides.

There really isn't anything more refreshing then iced Coke out of the old-school glass bottles.

Battles are lost or won in 15 minutes

Ever since that night I've been on the road Travelling and trying to forget That awful night I lost all my friends I see their faces yet.

There is no scarier chasm of darkness than the human mind.