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 see every chance of a long, confused and disorganizing civil war, and I feel no desire to take a hand therein.

The young bloods of the South: sons of planters, lawyers about towns, good billiard-players and sportsmen, men who never did any work and never will... They are splendid riders, first-rate shots and utterly reckless. These men must all be killed or employed by us before we can hope for peace.

You may as well say, 'That's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

I hate newspapermen. They come into camp and pick up their camp rumors and print them as facts. I regard them as spies, which, in truth, they are.

In our Country... one class of men makes war and leaves another to fight it out.

You might as well appeal against the thunderstorm.