After All, I Think Forrest Was The

The Scenes On This Field Would Have Cured Anybody Of War.

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.

You Cannot Qualify War In Harsher Terms Than I Will. War Is Cruelty, And You Cannot Refine It; And Those Who Brought War Into Our Country Deserve All The Curses And Maledictions A People Can Pour Out. I Know I Had No Hand In Making This War, And I Know I Will Make More Sacrifices To-day Than Any Of You To Secure Peace.

I See Every Chance Of A Long, Confused And Disorganizing Civil War, And I Feel No Desire To Take A Hand Therein.

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.