The Carping And Bickering Of Political Factions

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 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.

To Secure The Safety Of The Navigation Of The Mississippi River I Would Slay Millions. On That Point I Am Not Only Insane, But Mad... I Think I See One Or Two Quick Blows That Will Astonish The Natives Of The South And Will Convince Them That, Though To Stand Behind A Big Cottonwood And Shoot At A Passing Boat Is Good Sport And Safe, It May Still Reach And Kill Their Friends And Families Hundreds Of Miles Off. For Every Bullet Shot At A Steamboat, I Would Shoot A Thousand 30-pounder Parrots Into Even Helpless Towns On Red, Ouachita, Yazoo, Or Wherever A Boat Can Float Or Soldier March.

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.