It is better that one's customers come to one's shop than to have to look for them abroad.

Fight on and fly on to the last drop of blood and the last drop of fuel, to the last beat of the heart.

The quality of the box matters little. Success depends upon the man who sits in it.

The murder of a man is still murder, even in wartime.

The duty of the fighter pilot is to patrol his area of the sky, and shoot down any enemy fighters in that area. Anything else is rubbish.

Find the enemy and shoot him down. Anything else is nonsense.

As a little boy of eleven I entered the Cadet Corps. I was not particularly eager to become a Cadet, but my father wished it. So my wishes were not consulted.

Success flourishes only in perseverance ceaseless, restless perseverance.

If I should come out of this war alive, I will have more luck than brains.

It is a pity that my collection of trophies contains not a single Russian.

I never was good at learning things. I did just enough work to pass. In my opinion it would have been wrong to do more than was just sufficient, so I worked as little as possible.

...if one is to confer successfully with foreigners, it is essential to know their ways of thinking and be able to put oneself in their place.

Experience tells me habits are stronger than love, fear, and necessity.

But he'll never be fully recognised, because Scots literature these days is all about complaining and moaning and being injured in one's soul.

Even the most absent minded Soldier will develope a memory like a elephant when mistreated.

Biffy didn't like enigmas - they were out of fashion.

I can't constantly be trying to write the unwritten song, the song that the 15-year-old girl needs. I need to write the song that I need.

As one California winemaker said, "We release no wine before the bank tells us that its ready."

My childhood years were a balance of dark and light.

Waiting is an expectant patience. It's a patience that says, "I don't know what God is going to do, but I know God is going to do something."

The San Francisco Stock Exchange was the place that continuously pumped up the savings of the lower classes into the pockets of the millionaires.