“Just because war is hell doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.”

In my experience, Marines are gung ho no matter what. They will all fight to the death. Everyone of them just wants to get out there and kill. They are bad-ass, hard-charging mothers.

You have to slow your heart rate, stay calm. You have to shoot in between your heartbeats.

The Navy credits me with more kills as a sniper than any other American service member, past or present.

You’re not just going out there, maybe sacrificing your own life. There’s also sacrifices still going on at home. You can serve in the military and have a good marriage, but you just need to be aware of it so you can take those steps to take care of it.

But real life doesn’t travel in a perfect straight line; it doesn’t necessarily have that ‘all lived happily ever after’ bit. You have to work on where you’re going.

It’s funny – sometimes the strongest individuals feel the worst when events are out of their control, and they can’t really be there for the people they love. I’ve felt it myself.

I just want to get the bad guys but if I can’t see them, I can’t shoot them.

I have a master chief that always said, punch and run.

I am a much better father and husband than I ever was a sniper.

I thought I should be stronger than was possible.

I don’t shoot people with Korans. I’d like to, but I don’t.

I really don’t care what people think of me.

War is hell. Hollywood fantasizes about it and makes it look good; war sucks.

Other people are talking about writing books about my life, or about some of the things I’ve done. I find it strange, but I also feel it’s my life and my story, and I guess I better be the one to get it on paper the way it actually happened.

There’s no reason someone who has fought for their country should be homeless or jobless.

I’m just trying to be the me that I am and not all of this other crap. I just want to be the family man, and if somehow I can make the money to get my ranch and get the hell away from everybody else, that would be awesome.