War Is At Best Barbarism.

War's Legitimate Object Is More Perfect Peace.

I'm A Damned Sight Smarter Than Grant; I Know More About Organization, Supply And Administration And About Everything Else Than He Does; But I'll Tell You Where He Beats Me And Where He Beats The World. He Don't Care A Damn For What The Enemy Does Out Of His Sight But It Scares Me Like Hell.

An Army Is A Collection Of Armed Men Obliged To Obey One Man. Every Enactment, Every Change Of Rule Which Impairs This Principle Weakens The Army, Impairs Its Value, And Defeats The Very Object Of Its Existence.

The Carping And Bickering Of Political Factions In The Nation's Capital Reminds Me Of Two Pelicans Quarreling Over A Dead Fish.

I Confess, Without Shame, That I Am Sick And Tired Of Fighting — Its Glory Is All Moonshine; Even Success The Most Brilliant Is Over Dead And Mangled Bodies, With The Anguish And Lamentations Of Distant Families, Appealing To Me For Sons, Husbands, And Fathers ... It Is Only Those Who Have Never Heard A Shot, Never Heard The Shriek And Groans Of The Wounded And Lacerated ... That Cry Aloud For More Blood, More Vengeance, More Desolation.