A soldier plods and groans, sweats and toils, he growls and curses, and at the end he dies.

I had learned one of the bitter lessons of life: never try to regain the past, the fire will have become ashes.

Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid, one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

If I had one more division like this First Marine Division I could win this war.

It was close; but that's the way it is in war. You win or lose, live or die - and the difference is just an eyelash.

I realize that advice is worth what it costs--that is, nothing.

I've looked that old scoundrel death in the eye many times but this time I think he has me on the ropes.