A Quote by Alexander Suvorov

The bullet is a mad thing; only the bayonet knows what it is about. — © Alexander Suvorov
The bullet is a mad thing; only the bayonet knows what it is about.
The bullet is a fool, the bayonet is a fine chap.
It was the combination of many factors... With most people, suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. With the Lisbon girls, the gun was loaded. A bullet for family abuse. A bullet for genetic predisposition. A bullet for historical malaise. A bullet for inevitable momentum. The other two bullets are impossible to name, but that doesn't mean the chambers were empty.
Voting is merely a labor-saving device for ascertaining on which side force lies and bowing to the inevitable... It is neither more nor less than a paper representative of the bayonet, the bully, and the bullet.
All my life, people have asked me what I was so mad about. 'Why you so mad?' And I was never mad. I'm not mad, I just look mad.
the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.
I have suffered as much as Martin Luther King. Only I didn't get the bullet. And I would have taken the bullet if I could have.
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved.
There isn't a damn thing wrong with prayer. During the war I served with a guy who prayed all the time, carried a Bible with him everywhere. We all mocked him to no end. One day, that Bible stopped a bullet, my hand to God, that Bible stopped a bullet. If only he'd had another Bible in front of his face, he'd be alive today.
The true mystery of the JFK assassination isn't 'How could the bullet go through two people with only slight damage?' but 'Why did the third bullet explode?'
A man’s ignorance sometimes is not only useful, but beautiful - while his knowledge, so called, is oftentimes worse than useless, besides being ugly. Which is the best man to deal with - he who knows nothing about a subject, and, what is extremely rare, knows that he knows nothing, or he who really knows something about it, but thinks that he knows all?
Reassurance is such a sad, mad thing. Deep inside, everyone knows the truth.
What really drives me mad about art is that, in America, the only thing you can do is to take it apart.
The only people for me are the mad ones: the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who... burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow Roman candles.
The mad person who knows that they are mad is close to sanity.
A mad who knows that he is mad is not fully mad!
My basic political philosophy is, I ain't mad at that. Which basically means I don't have to have a strong opinion about everything. I'm too tired most of the time. Why do I have to take a stand on everything? Sometimes I'm just not mad at it. Like, What do you think about gay marriage? I ain't mad at you, you're gay and you're married: I ain't mad at you, go do it.
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