By profession I am a soldier and take pride in that fact. But I am prouder - infinitely prouder - to be a father. A soldier destroys in order to build; the father only builds, never destroys. The one has the potentiality of death; the other embodies creation and life. And while the hordes of death are mighty, the battalions of life are mightier still. It is my hope that my son, when I am gone, will remember me not from the battle field but in the home repeating with him our simple daily prayer, Our Father Who Art in Heaven.

I address you with neither rancor nor bitterness in the fading twilight of life, with but one purpose in mind: to serve my country.

Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.

I know that this operation will be sort of helter-skelter. But the First Marine Division is going to win the war by landing at Inchon.

Nothing would please me better than if they would give me three months and then attack here.

Life is a lively process of becoming.

The untruthful soldier trifles with the lives of his countrymen and the honor and safety of his country.