These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die, like fire and powder Which, as they kiss, consume.
I have always felt that violence was the last refuge of the incompetent, and empty threats the final sanctuary of the terminally inept.
Violence does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another.
Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.
It is as certain as it is strange that truth and error come from one and the same source. Thus it is that we are often not at liberty to do violence to error, because at the same time we do violence to truth.
In the world today, only a philosophy of eternity could justify non-violence.[Seule, dans le monde d’aujourd’hui, une philosophie de l’éternité peut justifier la non-violence.]
If somebody says, “I love you,” to me, I feel as though I had a pistol pointed at my head. What can anybody reply under such conditions but that which the pistol-holder requires? “I love you, too.”