Because no battle is ever won he said. They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an allusion of philosophers and fools. |
Between grief and nothing I will take grief. |
Between pain and nothing, I choose pain |
Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life. |
Don't bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself. |
Don't read that trash; read this. |
Even at sixty-two, I can still go harder and further and longer than some of the others. That is, I seem to have reached the point where all I have to risk is just my bones. |
Every man has a different idea of what's beautiful, and it's best to take the gesture, the shadow of the branch, and let the mind create the tree |
Everything goes by the board: honor, pride, decency to get the book written. |
Facts and truth really don't have much to do with each other. |
For every Southern boy fourteen years old, not once but whenever he wants it, there is the instant when it's still not yet two o’clock on that July afternoon in 1863, the brigades are in position behind the rail fence, the guns are laid and ready in the woods and the furled flags are already loosened to break out and Pickett himself with his long oiled ringlets and his hat in one hand probably and his sword in the other looking up the hill waiting for Longstreet to give the word and it's all in the balance, it hasn't happened yet, it hasn't even begun yet, it not only hasn't begun yet but there is still time for it not to begin against that position and those circumstances which made more men than Garnett and Kemper and Armistead and Wilcox look grave yet it's going to begin, we all know that, we have come too far with too much at stake and that moment doesn't need even a fourteen-year-old boy to think This time. Maybe this time with all this much to lose and all this much to gain: Pennsylvania, Maryland, the world, the golden dome of Washington itself to crown with desperate and unbelievable victory the desperate gamble, the cast made two years ago.... William Faulkner, Intruder In The Dust |
Given a choice between grief and nothing, I'd choose grief. |
Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain |
Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain |
Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain |