I Know I Had No Hand In

Though I Never Ordered It, And Never Wished For It, I Have Never Shed Any Tears Over The Event, Because I Believe That It Hastened What We All Fought For, The End Of The War.

It's A Disagreeable Thing To Be Whipped.

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 Begin To Regard The Death And Mangling Of A Couple Thousand Men As A Small Affair, A Kind Of Morning Dash-and It May Be Well That We Become So Hardened.

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.