You People Speak So Lightly Of War;

I Am Tired And Sick Of War. Its Glory Is All Moonshine. It Is Only Those Who Have Neither Fired A Shot Nor Heard The Shrieks And Groans Of The Wounded Who Cry Aloud For Blood, For Vengeance, For Desolation. War Is Hell.

You Might As Well Appeal Against The Thunderstorm.

If You Don't Have My Army Supplied, And Keep It Supplied, We'll Eat Your Mules Up, Sir.

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.