Never give a madman an army.

When nations go insane, war begins its reign.

Horrible inventions will never resolve former horrors.

The machine gun; it was simply a new means to rip to pieces our own flesh and blood.

A thousand souls cannot dance on the head of a poppy; neither can the human mind comprehend the loss of  millions of lives.

When we begin to think that it is heroic to kill, we have begun to tip off the edge of civilization.

When we use the word necessary with the word war, we teeter on the brink.

We ever under-estimate the demonic destruction of our addiction to violence.

Hostility is a slow cook; war is a fast burn.

Horror over there, normal over here.

Nationalism is a form of self-hatred; it leads us to despise those who are just like us.

Because war museums lack the dead, they ever understate the horror.

Thin glass, level shelves and straight pegs will do nothing to further prevent concussed brains.

There are choices; Monet painted water lilies while the world machine gunned itself to death.

War museums no end; we’ll do it all again.

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