Whoever Lights The Torch Of War In

I Had Excellent Opportunity To Intoxicate Myself With The Solemn Splendor Of The Brilliant Church Festivals. As Was Only Natural, The Abbot Seemed To Me, As The Village Priest Had Once Seemed To My Father, The Highest And Most Desirable Ideal.

There Arc No Such Things As Desperate Situations. Only Desperate Men.

In This Hour I Would Ask Of The Lord God Only This: That, As In The Past, So In The Years To Come He Would Give His Blessing To Our Work And Our Action, To Our Judgement And Our Resolution, That He Will Safeguard Us From All False Pride And From All Cowardly Servility, That He May Grant To Us To Find The Straight Path Which His Providence Has Ordained For The German People, And That He May Ever Give Us The Courage To Do The Right, Never To Falter, Never To Yield Before Any Violence, Before Any Danger.

Every Year A Thousand Kilometers Of Motor-roads Will Be Opened Until The Greatest Work In The History Of Mankind Is Completed.

I Have Issued The Command, And I'll Have Anybody Who Utters But One Word Of Criticism Executed By A Firing Squad, That Our War Aim Does Not Consist In Reaching Certain Lines, But In The Physical Destruction Of The Enemy. Accordingly, I Have Placed My Death's-head Formation In Readiness, For The Present Only In The East, With Orders To Them To Send To Death Mercilessly And Without Compassion, Men, Women, And Children Of Polish Derivation And Language. Only Thus Shall We Gain The Living Space Which We Need. Who, After All, Speaks Today Of The Annihilation Of The Armenians?