We must kill them. We must incinerate them. Pig after pig... cow after cow... village after village... army after army...

I've seen horrors... horrors that you've seen. But you have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that... but you have no right to judge me. It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror... Horror has a face... and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies! I remember when I was with Special Forces... seems a thousand centuries ago. We went into a camp to inoculate some children. We left the camp after we had inoculated the children for polio, and this old man came running after us and he was crying. He couldn't see. We went back there, and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm. There they were in a pile. A pile of little arms. And I remember... I... I... I cried, I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out; I didn't know what I wanted to do! And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it... I never want to forget. And then I realized... like I was shot... like I was shot with a diamond... a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought, my God... the genius of that! The genius! The will to do that! Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we, because they could stand that these were not monsters, these were men... trained cadres. These men who fought with their hearts, who had families, who had children, who were filled with love... but they had the strength... the strength... to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men, our troubles here would be over very quickly. You have to have men who are moral... and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling... without passion... without judgment... without judgment! Because it's judgment that defeats us.

Saigon... shit; I'm still only in Saigon... Every time I think I'm gonna wake up back in the jungle.

When I was home after my first tour, it was worse.

I'd wake up and there'd be nothing. I hardly said a word to my wife, until I said "yes" to a divorce. When I was here, I wanted to be there; when I was there, all I could think of was getting back into the jungle. I'm here a week now... waiting for a mission... getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker, and every minute Charlie squats in the bush, he gets stronger. Each time I looked around the walls moved in a little tighter.

 He had only two ways home: death, or victory.

He likes you because you're still alive.

Gur duilich leam mar tha mi 'S mo chridhe 'n sàs aig bròn Bhon an uair a dh'fhàg mi Beanntan àrd a' cheò Gleanntannan a'mhànrain Nan loch, nam bàgh 's nan sròm 'S an eala bhàn tha tàmh ann Gach latha air 'm bheil mi 'n tòir. A Mhagaidh na bi tùrsach A rùin, ged gheibhinn bàs- Cò am fear am measg an t-sluaigh A mhaireas buan gu bràth? Chan eil sinn uile ach air chuairt Mar dhìthein buaile fàs Bheir siantannan na blianna sios 'S nach tog a' ghrian an àird. Tha 'n talamh leir mun cuairt dhìom 'Na mheallan suas 's na neòil; Aig na 'shells a' bualadh - Cha leir dhomh bhuam le ceò: Gun chlaisneachd aig mo chluasan Le fuaim a' ghunna mhòir; Ach ged tha 'n uair seo cruaidh orm Tha mo smuaintean air NicLeòid. Air m' uilinn anns na truinnsichean Tha m' inntinn ort, a ghràidh; Nam chadal bidh mi a' bruadar ort Cha dualach dhomh bhith slàn; Tha m' aigne air a lionadh Le cianalas cho làn 'S a'ghruag a dh'fhàs cho ruadh orm A nis air thuar bhith bàn. Ach ma thig an t-àm Is anns an Fhraing gu faigh mi bàs 'S san uaigh gun tèid mo shìneadh Far eil na mìltean chàch, Mo bheannachd leis a' ghruagaich, A' chaileag uasal bhbànn - Gach là a dh'fhalbh gun uallach dhi, Gun nàire gruaidh na dhàil. Oidhche mhath leat fhèin, a rùin Nad leabaidh chùbhraidh bhlàth; Cadal sàmhach air a chùl Do dhùsgadh sunndach slàn. Tha mise 'n seo 's an truinnsidh fhuar 'S nam chluasan fuaim bhàis Gun duil ri faighinn às le buaidh - Tha 'n cuan cho buan ri shnàmh.

Sad I consider my condition With my heart engaged with sorrow From the very time that I left The high bens of the mist The little glens of dalliance Of the lochs, the bays and the forelands And the white swan dwelling there Whom I daily pursue. O Maggie, don't be sad Love, if I should die - Who among men Endures eternally? We are all only on a journey Like flowers in the deserted cattle fold That the year's wind and rain will bring down And that the sun cannot raise. All the ground around me Is like hail in the heavens; With the shells exploding - I am blinded by smoke: My ears are deafened By the roar of the cannon; But despite the savagery of the moment My thoughts are on the girl called MacLeod. Crouched in the trenches My mind is fixed on you, love; In sleep I dream of you I am not fated to survive; My spirit is filled With a surfeit of longing And my hair once so auburn Is now almost white. But if it should happen That I am killed in France And laid in the grave As thousands are already, My blessings go with the maiden, So noble and fair. May her every day be free of care, And her life a source of pride. Goodnight to you, love In your warm, sweet-smelling bed; May you have peaceful sleep and afterwards May you waken healthy and in good spirits. I am here in the cold trench With the clamour of death in my ears With no hope of returning victorious- The ocean is too wide to swim.

The best thing - in Shadow's opinion, perhaps the only good thing - about being in prison was a feeling of relief. The feeling that he'd plunged as low as he could plunge and he'd hit bottom. He didn't worry that the man was going to get him, because the man had got him. He was no longer scared of what tomorrow might bring, because yesterday had brought it.