Let's see if I can get this back on track (no wait--this is supposed to be Not Track).
Here's another bit of eloquence from Mr. Lincoln, this from his first inaugural address:
We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory stretching from every battlefield and patriotic grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
The mystic chords of memory stretching from every battlefield and patriotic grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
Great scene in Apocalypse Now, when the General is ordering Willard to 'terminate' Col. Kurtz's command:
Well, you see Willard... In this war, things get confused out there, power, ideals, the old morality, practical military necessity. But out there with these natives it must be a temptation to be god. Because there's a conflict in every human heart, between the rational and the irrational, between good and evil. And good does not always triumph. Sometimes the dark side overcomes what Lincoln called 'the better angels of our nature'. Every man has got a breaking point. You and I have one. Walter Kurtz has reached his. And very obviously, he has gone insane.
bambam wrote:My favorite Hemingway line: "In the fall the war was still there, but we did not go to it anymore."
I'll just have to complete this first paragraph from Hemingway's "In another Country" as it is just about my favorite piece of writing in all his short stories.
"It was cold in the fall in Milan and the dark came very early. Then the electric lights came on, and it was pleasant along the streets looking in the windows. There was much game hanging outside the shops, and the snow powdered in the fur of the foxes and the wind blew their tails. The deer hung stiff and heavy and empty, and small birds blew in the wind and the wind turned their feathers. It was a cold fall and the wind came down from the mountains"