“With the world so set on tearing itself apart, it don't seem like such a bad thing to me…”

“Desmond Doss: You want some morphine? Sgt Howell: Hell, yes. That or a bullet.”

“Young Desmond: [about Tom] Why does he hate us so much? Bertha Doss: Oh, he-he don't hate…”

“Artie got hit in the back. It blew most of his guts and intestines out his front, offal…”