War makes strange giant creatures out of us little routine men who inhabit the earth.

Our artillery has really been sensational. For once we have enough of something and at the right time. Officers tell me they actually have more guns than they know what to do with.

Thoughts are wonderful things, that they can bring two people, so far apart, into harmony and understanding for even a little while.

Say what you will, nothing can make a complete soldier except battle experience.

I've been immersed in it too long. My spirit is wobbly and my mind is confused. The hurt has become too great.

Below us the Thames grew lighter, and all around below were the shadows - the dark shadows of buildings and bridges that formed the base of this dreadful masterpiece.

For me war has become a flat, black depression without highlights, a revulsion of the mind and an exhaustion of the spirit.

If you go long enough without a bath, even the fleas will let you alone.

There is no sense in the struggle, but there is no choice but to struggle.

About every two minutes a new wave of planes would be over. The motors seemed to grind rather than roar, and to have an angry pulsation like a bee buzzing in blind fury.

I try not to take any foolish chances, but there's just no way to play it completely safe and still do your job.

As many numbers of people as are there, there are that many varieties of egoisms.

Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow.

One of Obama’s greatest failures will be his legacy of making millions completely dependent on government handouts, not work....So sad.

It was one of those years when there was no summer. There was no winter either. It was just November all year that year.

I'm a leave-the-bathroom-door-open nudist, which is sometimes disconcerting for my friends.

I don't like to play the victim.

We women ought to put first things first. Why should we mind if men have their faces on the money, as long as we get our hands on it?

The one who acts is always without conscience; nobody has a conscience but the contemplative person.

I like the word 'underground'... 'independent' carries a stigma of whininess. 'Underground' means a good time.

Yes there are times when you regret your decisions but we all have to make them without the power of hindsight.