“Life is like invading Russia. A blitz start, massed shakos, plumes dancing like a flustered henhouse; a period of svelte progress recorded in ebullient despatches as the enemy falls back; then the beginning of a long, morale-sapping trudge with rations getting shorter and the first snowflakes upon your face. The enemy burns Moscow and you yield to General January, whose fingernails are very icicles. Bitter retreat. Harrying Cossacks. Eventually you fall beneath a boy-gunner's grapeshot while crossing some Polish river not even marked on your general's map.”
“Never get close to your enemies, you might start liking them.”
“Question for your life: If your face looked like your ass, and I’m not implying it doesn’t, would you consider invading Russia in the middle of winter wearing only shorts?”
“General [De Gaulle], you must not hate your friends more than you hate your enemies”
“[Rakel] It feels a bit like jumping out of a burning house. Falling is better than burning.[Harry] At least until you land.[Rakel] I've come to realize that falling and living have certain things in common. For a start, both are very temporary states of being.”
“Neither the stone that made you stumble is your enemy, nor the stone that helped you cross the river is your friend! Universe just lives its own life!”