Chesty Puller Quotes

What the hell is wrong with him now?

Where the hell are the singing cats?

How the hell can you play here?

Now I just don't know who to tell to go to hell Who put the old devil in the distorted angel?

So round and round you go, spinning mental wheels and nowhere finding anyplace to get traction. What the hell...is it?

How the hell do I know why there were Nazis? I don't know how the can-opener works.

You get born and you try this and you don't know why, only you keep on trying it and you are born at the same time with a lot of other people, all mixed up with them, like trying to, having to, move your arms and legs with strings, only the same strings are hitched to all the other arms and legs and the others all trying and they don't know why either except that the strings are all in one another's way.

I mean, so if I've talked to whites in City of Refuge, sometimes they'll wonder, "Why do we do things a certain way, and why do we make a big deal out of events?" And what's happening is they're falling back on their understanding of the way that church should work. It's not always working exactly like that, and they feel frustration or confusion. Sometimes people leave. That's certainly common in mixed churches.

I am ill at these numbers.

I'm not an ungenerous person; I don't resent it. It's just sort of a head-scratcher.

Your own family resemblances are a frustrating code, most easily read by those who know you least.

There are too many steps in this castle, and it seems to me they add a few every night, just to vex me" - Maester Cressen

Let's presume that a country or army has this weapon ; this kind of armaments cannot be used by infantry for example or by anyone. This kind of armament should be used by specialized units, so it cannot be in the hand of anyone.

And I, who timidly hate life, fear death with fascination. I fear this nothingness that could be something else, and I fear it as nothing and as something else simultaneously, as if gross horror and non-existence could coincide there, as if my coffin could entrap the eternal breathing of a bodily soul, as if immortality could be tormented by confinement. The idea of hell, which only a satanic soul could have invented seems to me to have derived from this sort of confusion - a mixture of two different fears that contradict and contaminate each other.

I used to think that when I got older, the world would make so much more sense. But you know what? The older I get, the more confusing it is to me. The more complicated it is. Harder. You’d think we’d be getting better at it. But there’s just more and more chaos. The pieces—they’re everywhere. And nobody knows what to do about it. I find myself grasping, Nick. You know that feeling? That feeling when you just want the right thing to fall into the right place, not only because it’s right, but because it will mean that such a thing is still possible? I want to believe in that.

Then, Sir, we will give them the bayonet!

What do you mean, what's the matter with him? Nothing's the matter with him, everything's the matter with him, the same as it is with everybody else. He's just fine. He gets overwhelmed now and then, and he doesn't know how to say what he feels or means, so he cries and runs off a little, trying to find out where to go, for God's sake. Where can you go?

I was just getting tired of the image bullshit...that man of mystery trip and what have you. What's that all about?

Life is like arriving late for a movie, having to figure out what was going on without bothering everybody with a lot of questions, and then being unexpectedly called away before you find out how it ends.

I'm in a Road Runner cartoon, Sinclair. And I'm the coyote.

Well, Governor, we also have fewer horses and bayonets.

Every day is the same thing out the door Feel further away then ever before Some things in life, it gets too late to learn Well, I'm lost somewhere I must have made a few bad turns

I honestly have no idea what's going on anymore. I just need to find something I can hit. (Shaun Mason)

Like on the airlines, they say they want to 'pre-board'. Well, what the hell is 'pre board'? What does that mean? To get on before you get on?

The bullet is a fool, the bayonet is a fine chap.