70+ Overwatch’s Soldier 76 Quotes

Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin they think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives.

Bein’ a soldier is not hard. If it was, soldiers would not be able to do it.

Even in times of trauma, we try to maintain a sense of normality until we no longer can. That, my friends, is called surviving. Not healing. We never become whole again … We are survivors. If you are here today… You are a survivor. But those of us who have made it thru hell and are still standing? we bare a different name: warriors.

A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon.

Dad, how do soldiers killing each other solve the world’s problems?.

Only happy people have nightmares, from overeating. For those who live a nightmare reality, sleep is a black hole, lost in time, like death.

No soldier outlives a thousand chances.

Everyone’s a knucklehead at one point or another.

A soldier is he whose blood makes the glory of the general.

…it is a proud privilege to be a soldier – a good soldier … [with] discipline, self-respect, pride in his unit and his country, a high sense of duty and obligation to comrades and to his superiors, and a self confidence born of demonstrated ability.

The music at a wedding procession always reminds me of the music of soldiers going into battle.

Look now — in all of history men have been taught that killing of men is an evil thing not to be countenanced. Any man who kills must be destroyed because this is a great sin, maybe the worst we know. And then we take a soldier and put murder in his hands and we say to him, “use it well, use it wisely.” we put no checks on him. Go out and kill as many of a certain kind or classification of your brothers as you can. And we will reward you for it because it is a violation of your early training.

We came to realise – first with astonishment, then bitterness, and finally with indifference – that intellect apparently wasn’t the most important thing…not ideas, but the system; not freedom, but drill. We had joined up with enthusiasm and with good will; but they did everything to knock that out of us.

Nowadays you have to be a scientist if you want to be a killer. No, no, I was neither. Ladies and gentleman of the jury, the majority of sex offenders that hanker for some throbbing, sweet-moaning, physical but not necessarily coital, relation with a girl-child, are innocuous, inadequate, passive, timid strangers who merely ask the community to allow them to pursue their practically harmless, so-called aberrant behavior, their little hot wet private acts of sexual deviation without the police and society cracking down upon them. We are not sex fiends! we do not rape as good soldiers do. We are unhappy, mild, dog-eyed gentlemen, sufficiently well integrated to control our urge in the presence of adults, but ready to give years and years of life for one chance to touch a nymphet. Emphatically, no killers are we. Poets never kill.

Military men are just dumb, stupid animals to be used as pawns in foreign policy.

That’s a nice song,” said young sam, and vimes remembered that he was hearing it for the first time.
“it’s an old soldiers’ song,” he said.
“really, sarge? but it’s about angels.”
yes, thought vimes, and it’s amazing what bits those angels cause to rise up as the song progresses. It’s a real soldiers’ song: sentimental, with dirty bits.
“as I recall, they used to sing it after battles,” he said. “i’ve seen old men cry when they sing it,” he added.
“why? it sounds cheerful.”
they were remembering who they were not singing it with, thought vimes. You’ll learn. I know you will.

There has seldom if ever a shortage of eager young males prepared to kill and die to preserve the security, comfort and prejudices of their elders, and what you call heroism is just an expression of this simple fact; there is never a scarcity of idiots.

Every soldier must know, before he goes into battle, how the little battle he is to fight fits into the larger picture, and how the success of his fighting will influence the battle as a whole.

Every citizen should be a soldier. This was the case with the greeks and romans, and must be that of every free state.

No time to spare: the expression assumed its full significance, as so many expressions do in wartime.

Then there was the war, and I married it because there was nothing else when I reached the age of falling in love.

I’m fed up to the ears with old men dreaming up wars for young men to die in.

To be heroic is to be courageous enough to die for something; to be inspirational is to be crazy enough to live a little.

You can’t get the blood out.

The army consists of the first infantry division and eight million replacements.

I know what i’m capable of; I am a soldier now, a warrior. I am someone to fear, not hunt.

America without her soldiers would be like god without his angels.

There were many, many times thereafter that don regretted having enlisted – but so has every man who ever volunteered for military service.

That is what death is like. It doesn’t matter what uniforms the soldiers are wearing. It doesn’t matter how good the weapons are. I thought if everyone could see what I saw, we would never have war anymore.

Ten soldiers wisely led will beat a hundred without a head.

Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.

Within the soul of each vietnam veteran there is probably something that says “bad war, good soldier.” only now are americans beginning to separate the war from the warrior.

The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.

Kropp on the other hand is a thinker. He proposes that a declaration of war should be a kind of popular festival with entrance-tickets and bands, like a bull fight. Then in the arena the ministers and generals of the two countries, dressed in bathing-drawers and armed with clubs, can have it out on themselves. Whoever survives the country wins. That would be much simpler and more than just this arrangement, where the wrong people do the fighting.

Lovely was my compliment. Could you not come up with your own?”
“lord paen said compliment her, he did not say we had to be creative about it,” the second man pointed out with a shrug.

A handful of soldiers is always better than a mouthful of arguments.

You may be sensitive inside, but what I see on the outside is a soldier.

I have gone to war and now I can issue my complaint. I can sit on my porch and complain all day. And you must listen. Some of you will say to me: you signed the contract, you crying b*tch, and you fought in a war because of your signature, no one held a gun to your head. This is true, but because I signed the contract and fulfilled my obligation to fight one of america’s wars, I am entitled to speak, to say, I belong to a f*cked situation.

The courage of a soldier is heightened by his knowledge of his profession.

A soldier lives always for the next battle, because he knows that before it arrives impossible changes can occur in his favor.

Soldiers can sometimes make decisions that are smarter than the orders they’ve been given.

The problems I had existed before I did, and I discovered them.

Dear life,

i have been living alone for the last four years. I am familiar with my loneliness. And sometimes I feel like a soldier who can survive without love or poetry too! I am used to leading this hard life!

yours sincerely,
mr. Writer.

I’ll tell you what i’m fighting for. Not for england, nor her allies, nor any patriotic cause. It’s all come down to the hope of being with you..

If our soldiers are not overburdened with money, it is not because they have a distaste for riches; if their lives are not unduly long, it is not because they are disinclined to longevity.

With courage and character, American soldiers continue to put themselves on the line to defend our freedom, and so many have paid the ultimate sacrifice.

It is not the dead rather the ones who lives through war have seen the dreadful end of the war, you might have been victorious, unwounded but deep within you, you carry the mark of the war, you carry the memories of war, the time you have spend with your comrades, the times when you had to dug in to foxholes to avoid shelling, the times when you hate to see your comrade down on the ground, feeling of despair, atrocities of the war, missing families, home. They live through hell and often the most wounded, they live with the guilt, despair, of being in the war, they may be happy but deep down they are a different person. Not everyone is a hero. You live with the moments, time when you were unsuccessful, when your actions would have helped your comrades, when your actions get your comrades killed, you live with regret, joyous in the victory can never help you forget the time you have spent. You are victorious for the people you have lost, the decisions you have made, the courage you have shown but being victorious in the war has a price to pay, irrevocable.

you can’t take a memory back from a person, even if you lose your memory your imagination haunts you as deep down your sub conscious mind you know who you are, who you were. Close you eyes and you can very well see your past, you cant change your past, time you have spent, you live through all and hence you are a hero not for the glorious war for the times you have faced. Decoration with medals is not going to give your life back. The more you know, more experiences doesn’t make it easy rather make its worse. Arms and ammunition kills you once and free you from the misery but the experiences of war kills you everyday, makes you cherish the times everyday through the life. You may forgot that you cant walk anymore, you may forget you cant use your right hand, you may forgot the scars on your face but you can never forgot war. Life without war is never easy and only the ones how survived through it can understand. Soldiers are taught to fight but the actual combat starts after war which you are not even trained for. You rely on your weapon, leaders, comrades, god, luck in the war but here you rely on your self to beat the horrors,they have seen hell, heaven, they have felt the mixed emotions of hope, despair, courage, victory, defeat, scared.

Every soldier thinks something of the moral aspects of what he is doing. But all war is immoral and if you let that bother you, you’re not a good soldier.

The soldier is the army. No army is better than its soldiers. The soldier is also a citizen. In fact, the highest obligation and privilege of citizenship is that of bearing arms for one’s country.

The most vital quality a soldier can possess is self-confidence, utter, complete and bumptious.

War is life multiplied by some number that no one has ever heard of.

We are forlorn like children, and experienced like old men, we are crude and sorrowful and superficial—i believe we are lost.

No soldier outlives a thousand chances. But every soldier believes in chance and trusts his luck.

Soldiers are men…most apt for all manner of services and best able to support and endure the infinite toils and continual hazards of war.

War is the greatest evil satan has invented to corrupt our hearts and souls. We should honor our soldiers, but we should never honor war.

To be a soldier one needs that special gene, that extra something, that enables a person to jump into one on one combat, something, after all, that is unimaginable to most of us, as we are simply not brave enough.

Maybe the ultimate wound is the one that makes you miss the war you got it in.

Do you know what a soldier is, young man? He’s the chap who makes it possible for civilised folk to despise war.

One doesn’t become a soldier in a week – it takes training, study and discipline.There is no question that the finest Army in the world is found in the United States.

Although a soldier by profession, I have never felt any sort of fondness for war, and I have never advocated it, except as a means of peace.

Our soldiers have nobly fought to protect freedom since our country’s birth, and have fought to protect those that could not protect themselves, even in foreign lands when called upon.

A lack of common sense usually ends in some heroic feat, much like the soldier who dives onto the grenade so that others may live.

Soldiers, when committed to a task, can’t compromise. It’s unrelenting devotion to the standards of duty and courage, absolute loyalty to others, not letting the task go until it’s been done.

Soldiers are not policemen, and it’s very unfair, even for those soldiers who have some police training, to burden them with police duties. It’s not what they’re trained for, or equipped for.

Sweeney: I can just see all you tough young soldiers cuddling together.
richard: not cuddling, huddling. There’s a difference.

Soldiers usually win the battles and generals get the credit for them.

If the thing they were fighting for was important enough to die for then it was also important enough for them to be thinking about it in the last minutes of their lives. That stood to reason. Life is awfully important so if you’ve given it away you’d ought to think with all your mind in the last moments of your life about the thing you traded it for. So did all those kids die thinking of democracy and freedom and liberty and honor and the safety of the home and the stars and stripes forever?

you’re g*dd*mn right they didn’t.

they died crying in their minds like little babies. They forgot the thing they were fighting for the things they were dying for. They thought about things a man can understand. They died yearning for the face of a friend. They died whimpering for the voice of a mother a father a wife a child they died with their hearts sick for one more look at the place where they were born please god just one more look. They died moaning and sighing for life. They knew what was important they knew that life was everything and they died with screams and sobs. They died with only one thought in their minds and that was I want to live I want to live I want to live.

he ought to know. He was the nearest thing to a dead man on earth.

As I remember his laugh, there was nothing mad about it, it was more like the laugh of someone who has been the victim of a practical joke, a farce in which he had believed until suddenly he realized his folly.

Soldiers are citizens of death’s grey land, drawing no dividend from time’s tomorrows.

Any soldier worth his salt should be antiwar. And still there are things worth fighting for.

Every lover is a soldier.

I mean the only thing us dead soldiers got in common is that none of us was good enough or lucky enough to survive the fight. We’re a host of failures.

Poor boy! I never knew you, yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that would save you.

There’ll be guys who were in wars hearing what we did and thinking, ‘whoa.’ you and me, we can say, ‘you got yourself some medals solider? yeah, well, I lived through the fayz.

The soldier—that is, the great soldier—of to-day is not a romantic animal, dashing at forlorn hopes, animated by frantic sentiment, full of fancies as to a love-lady or a sovereign; but a quiet, grave man, busied in charts, exact in sums, master of the art of tactics, occupied in trivial detail; thinking, as the duke of wellington was said to do, most of the shoes of his soldiers; despising all manner of èclat and eloquence; perhaps, like count moltke, ‘silent in seven languages’.

Every november of my boyhood, we put on red poppies and attended highly patriotic services in remembrance of those who had ‘given’ their lives. But on what assurance did we know that these gifts had really been made? only the survivors—the living—could attest to it. In order to know that a person had truly laid down his life for his friends, or comrades, one would have to hear it from his own lips, or at least have heard it promised in advance. And that presented another difficulty. Many brave and now dead soldiers had nonetheless been conscripts. The known martyrs—those who actually, voluntarily sought death and rejoiced in the fact—had been the kamikaze pilots, immolating themselves to propitiate a ‘divine’ emperor who looked (as orwell once phrased it) like a monkey on a stick. Their christian predecessors had endured torture and death (as well as inflicted it) in order to set up a theocracy. Their modern equivalents would be the suicide murderers, who mostly have the same aim in mind. About people who set out to lose their lives, then, there seems to hang an air of fanaticism: a gigantic sense of self-importance unattractively fused with a masochistic tendency to self-abnegation. Not wholesome.

the better and more realistic test would therefore seem to be: in what cause, or on what principle, would you risk your life?.

The soldier’s heart, the soldier’s spirit, the soldier’s soul, are everything. Unless the soldier’s soul sustains him he cannot be relied on and will fail himself and his commander and his country in the end.

Soldiers have many faults, but they have one redeeming merit; they are never worshippers of force. Soldiers more than any other men are taught severely and systematically that might is not right.

You can always tell an old soldier by the inside of his holsters and cartridge boxes. The young ones carry pistols and cartridges: the old ones, grub.

Military guys are rarely as smart as they think they are, and they’ve never gotten over the fact that civilians run the military.

A lady who sets her heart upon a lad in uniform must prepare to change lovers pretty quickly, or her life will be but a sad one.

War always reaches the depths of horror because of idiots who perpetuate terror from generation to generation under the pretext of vengeance.

A soldier’s life revolves around his mail. Like many others, i’ve been able to follow my kid’s progress from the day he was born until now he is able to walk and talk a little, and although I have never seen him I know him very well.

If my soldiers were to begin to think, not one of them would remain in the army.

Good soldiers never pass up a chance to eat or sleep. They never know how much they’ll be called on to do before the next chance.