I Think I Understand What

You Might As Well Appeal Against The Thunderstorm.

The Whole Army Is Burning With An Insatiable Desire To Wreak Violence Upon South Carolina. I Almost Tremble For Her Fate.

If You Don't Have My Army Supplied, And Keep It Supplied, We'll Eat Your Mules Up, Sir.

It's A Disagreeable Thing To Be Whipped.

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.