Our favorite games were killing. Our favorite books were death. It had been beaten into us: God is love. Not the parched face and gnarledcapes across a stick body; jitteringin the nude sky, we couldn't seetrying to touch usfor the blood in our eyes.

Joseph Bathanti
About This Quote

A quote from a novel by Ernest Hemingway about the realities of war and of life. The characters in this book of course deal with the fact that they must kill and die for their cause. The character “Papa” is said to have grown up hearing, "God is love." This quote has been turned into a popular saying, but it is wrong. God does not exist.

The author was referring to the concept of God that he had been taught as a child. His understanding of God was more like a force of nature than a loving entity.

Source: This Metal

Some Similar Quotes
  1. We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and–in spite of True Romance magazines–we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely–at least, not all the... - Hunter S. Thompson
  2. Stop fighting me! " he said, trying to pull on the arm he held. He was in a precarious position himself, straddling the rail as he tried to lean over far enough to get me and actually hold onto me.“ Let go of me! ”... - Richelle Mead
  3. Weeping is not the same thing as crying. It takes your whole body to weep, and when it's over, you feel like you don't have any bones left to hold you up. - Sarah Ockler
  4. May she wake in torment! " he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. "Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there–not in heaven–not perished–where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for... - Unknown
  5. What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life--to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each... - George Eliot
More Quotes By Joseph Bathanti
  1. Our favorite games were killing. Our favorite books were death. It had been beaten into us: God is love. Not the parched face and gnarledcapes across a stick body; jitteringin the nude sky, we couldn't seetrying to touch usfor the blood in our eyes.
  2. The clock sweats out each minuteof what meat is left to us.
  3. But there was little heart to our lust, only the confusion of not knowinghow long we'd have in our bodies.
Related Topics