A Quote by George Herbert
When war begins, then hell openeth.
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War is a lie. War is a racket. War is hell. War is waste. War is a crime. War is terrorism. War is not the answer.
War is hell, but that's not the half of it, because war is also mystery and terror and adventure and courage and discovery and holiness and pity and despair and longing and love. War is nasty; war is fun. War is thrilling; war is drudgery. War makes you a man; war makes you dead.
War is war and Hell is hell, and if you ask me, War is a lot worse.
If war was hell and only hell and there were no other colors in the palate I don't think people would continue to make war.
Peace is only better than war when it's not hell too. War being hell makes sense.
To every man there openeth a way, and ways, and a way. And the high soul climbs the high way, and the low soul gropes the low. And in between, on the misty flats, the rest drift to and fro. But to every man there openeth a high way and a low, and every man decideth the way his soul shall go.
Peace is the whole truth that wishes to enrapture humanity. War is the whole falsehood that wants to capture humanity. Peace begins in the soul and ends in the heart. War begins in the mind and ends in the body.
I don't really understand the point about carping about every casualty, every bombing, every death. War is hell. That's why people say war is hell.
The attack on the truth by war begins long before war starts and continues long after a war ends.
We may have hell if we have war, and we may have hell if we have peace. But if we have no vision for what we do, we have hell anyway.
People who have lived through a war know that as it approaches, an at first secret, unacknowledged, elation begins, as if an almost inaudible drum is beating ... an awful, illicit, violent excitement is abroad. Then the elation becomes too strong to be ignored or overlooked: then everyone is possessed by it.
When grace begins to rule, then our preoccupation with ourselves begins to leave.
From the time of Dante [Alighieri], when you have the Ptolemaic universe, you had God on the outside like a hypersphere, and then in the center you have the Earth, all the seven heavens and layers, and then you have the Mount of Purgatory and Hell right in the center, and here's Satan flapping his wings and he keeps making the lake of Cocytus ice so you can't get out. So, again, where Heaven and Hell are, who the hell knows that now?
If you write a novel where war is nothing but hell and no one experiences excitement or cracks a dark joke, then you're not actually admitting the full experience.
The path to paradise begins in hell.
The act of compassion begins with full attention, just as rapport does. You have to really see the person. If you see the person, then naturally, empathy arises. If you tune into the other person, you feel with them. If empathy arises, and if that person is in dire need, then empathic concern can come. You want to help them, and then that begins a compassionate act. So I'd say that compassion begins with attention.
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