Leslie Knope: I mean, that’s why people respect Hillary Clinton so much, because nobody takes a punch like her. She’s the strongest, smartest punching bag in the world.
Tag: conflict
If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man’s life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.
When you are wrestling for possession of a sword, the man with the handle always wins.
There is only one way to defeat the enemy, and that is to write as well as one can. The best argument is an undeniably good book.
Michael: Just hold on, please! Okay, if we do lose/lose, neither of you gets what you want. Do you understand? You… you would both lose. Now I need to ask you, do you want to pursue a lose/lose negotiation?
Angela: Can we just skip to whatever number 5 is – win/win or whatever?
Michael: Win/win is number four and number five is win/win/win. The important difference here is with win/win/win, we all win. Me too. I win for having successfully mediated a conflict at work.
When the fight begins within himself,
A man ‘s worth something.
We shall not fail or falter; we shall not weaken or tire. Neither the sudden shock of battle, nor the long-drawn trials of vigilance and exertion will wear us down. Give us the tools and we will finish the job.
I must protest that I would never seek foreign conflicts just to go over domestic difficulties; that would be frivolous. I was speaking of conflicts that we could not avoid, even though we do not seek them.
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by iron and blood
Not by speeches and votes of the majority, are the great questions of the time decided — that was the error of 1848 and 1849 — but by iron and blood.
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Strike, if you will; but hear.
Eurybiades lifting up his staff as if he were going to strike, Themistocles said, “Strike, if you will; but hear”.
It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog.
There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full.
Leslie Knope: These people are members of the community that care about where they live. So what I hear when I’m being yelled at is people caring loudly at me.
Margo: Fasten your seatbelts. It’s gonna be a bumpy night.
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Great, I just beat up Santa Claus.
Gus: Great, I just beat up Santa Claus.
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This was their finest hour.
Upon this battle depends the survival of Christian civilisation. Upon it depends our own British life and the long continuity of our institutions and our Empire. The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us now. Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this island or lose the war. If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age, made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, ‘This was their finest hour.’
We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearth-stone, allover this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
It’s not enough to be able to pick up a sword. You have to know which end to poke into the enemy.
Man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.
Some guy hit my car fender the other day, and I said unto him, “Be fruitful and multiply.” But not in those words.
The gratitude of every home in our Island, in our Empire, and indeed throughout the world, except in the abodes of the guilty, goes out to the British airmen who, undaunted by odds, unwearied in their constant challenge and mortal danger, are turning the tide of the World War by their prowess and by their devotion. Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few. All hearts go out to the fighter pilots, whose brilliant actions we see with our own eyes day after day; but we must never forget that all the time, night after night, month after month, our bomber squadrons travel far into Germany, find their targets in the darkness by the highest navigational skill, aim their attacks, often under the heaviest fire, often with serious loss, with deliberate careful discrimination, and inflict shattering blows upon the whole of the technical and war-making structure of the Nazi power.
Ron Burgundy: Boy, that escalated quickly. I mean, that really got out of hand fast.
Champ Kind: It jumped up a notch.
Ron Burgundy: It did, didn’t it?
Brick Tamland: Yeah, I stabbed a man in the heart.
Ron Burgundy: I saw that. Brick killed a guy. Did you throw a trident?
Brick Tamland: Yeah, there were horses, and a man on fire, and I killed a guy with a trident.
Ron Burgundy: Brick, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. You should find yourself a safehouse or a relative close by. Lay low for a while, because you’re probably wanted for murder.