Donald Trump Quotes

The world is pretty messed up.

He wanted to hit something or someone. He wanted to burn up the whole world, heal it, and burn it down again.

The world is in such a place of social unrest and there's so much violence.

To put it mildly, the world is a mess.

When civil fury first grew high And men fell out they knew not why.

I've never seen such a goddamned mess in my life.

War is not neat. It's not tidy. It's a mess.

This don't go here. [A major riot ensued.]

When hopes and dreams are loose in the streets, it is well for the timid to lock doors, shutter windows and lie low until the wrath has passed. For there is often a monstrous incongruity between the hopes, however noble and tender, and the action which follows them. It is as if ivied maidens and garlanded youths were to herald the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

Why, instead of bringing order - planting a tree, building a house, washing socks or reading a fairytale to a child - does one need to engage in doing nothing, then after a good booze, taking up a club and smashing everything?

The world is a mess.

I don't remember what they said, only the fury of their words, how the air turned raw and full of welts. Later it would remind me of birds trapped inside a closed room, flinging themselves against the windows and the walls, against each other.

First of all, don't mix your hairpins up with mine! You .... Oh! All right, mix your muck with mine. Mix it! Mix your rags with my tatters! Mix it all up.

We're gonna be in a world of hurt if we don't get it fixed, because there's going to be billions of people out there - they're hungry, they're mad. One thing that they can get their hands on is guns.

What I hated even more than the conflict was the lurid spectacle of a world of unreason.

War is the most readily available form of chaos.

I'll throw a globe at you! You ever been hit by the world?!

The crowd, still shouting, gives way before us. We plough our way through. Women hold their aprons over their faces and go stumbling away. A roar of fury goes up. A wounded man is being carried off.

Battle is an orgy of disorder.

I think the first decade of this century is going to be remembered as a time of extremism.

In the procession I should feel the crushing feet, the clashing discords, the ruthless hands and stifling breath. I could not hear the rhythm of the march.

We hoped against hope that what we had been doing was enough to prevent a riot. It was not enough.

Deep-seated are the wounds of civil brawls.

The United States is a madhouse.