“Peace surfaced here. Hard to imagine a person finding peace through war, but no one finds peace in warpeace finds you. It crawls into your sleeping bag and helps you fall asleep, nudges your arm, t...”

“Most likely, they were writing the same type of macho bullshit that I wrote, trying to sound tough with their words in case words were all that made it home.”

“I wasn't writing home. I wasn't writing a death letter, either. I was writing a death journal, a piece of fiction meant for my family and my fiancee, Sara.”

“War becomes a part of you. It is a feeling just as much as an experience. If you cant feel it, you werent paying attention. And if you werent paying attention, you are probably dead anyway.”

“I was enjoying the great human trophy hunt and, looking back, it scares the hell out of me”

“No matter what the reason, the ways I tried to justify the situation, the second-guessing that lingered, nothing could change the fact that people stopped existing because of me.”

“Be an echo of peace not an echo of bullets.”

“Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.”

“You dont need no gun control, you know what you need? We need some bullet control. Men, we need to control the bullets, thats right. I think all bullets should cost five thousand dollars five thous...”

“He tried to name which of the deadly seven might apply, and when he failed he decided to append an eighth, regret.”

“I now, weak, old, diseased, poor, dying, hold still my soul in my hands, and I regret nothing.”

“Regrets came up and asked me if Id like to own them. Declined them for the most part but took a few just so I wouldnt leave this relationship empty handed.”

“All words are pegs to hang ideas on.”

“A word is not the same with one writer as it is with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket.”

“No doubt I shall go on writing, stumbling across tundras of unmeaning, planting words like bloody flags in my wake....”