If Nominated By Either Party,

I Confess, Without Shame, That I Am Sick And Tired Of Fighting — Its Glory Is All Moonshine; Even Success The Most Brilliant Is Over Dead And Mangled Bodies, With The Anguish And Lamentations Of Distant Families, Appealing To Me For Sons, Husbands, And Fathers ... It Is Only Those Who Have Never Heard A Shot, Never Heard The Shriek And Groans Of The Wounded And Lacerated ... That Cry Aloud For More Blood, More Vengeance, More Desolation.

If I Had My Choice I Would Kill Every Reporter In The World, But I Am Sure We Would Be Getting Reports From Hell Before Breakfast.

War's Legitimate Object Is More Perfect Peace.

I Will Accept No Commission That Would Tend To Create A Rivalry With Grant. I Want Him To Hold What He Has Earned And Got. I Have All The Rank I Want.

The Young Bloods Of The South: Sons Of Planters, Lawyers About Towns, Good Billiard-players And Sportsmen, Men Who Never Did Any Work And Never Will... They Are Splendid Riders, First-rate Shots And Utterly Reckless. These Men Must All Be Killed Or Employed By Us Before We Can Hope For Peace.