“I’m trying to raise the awareness of the troops that, when they deploy and go to war, it’s not just them at war – it’s also their family. Their family is having to go through all the hardships and the stresses.”

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.

I really don’t care what people think of me. I’ve got my family. I’ve got my friends. Yes, I have been trained to be a little more aggressive if I need to be, but I don’t go around thumping people.

Savage, despicable evil. That’s what we were fighting in Iraq.

Great way to fight a war – be prepared to defend yourself for winning.

The rules are drawn up by lawyers who are trying to protect the admirals and generals from the politicians; they’re not written by people who are worried about the guys on the ground getting shot.

But in that backroom or whatever it is when God confronts me with my sins, I do not believe any of the kills I had during the war will be among them. Everyone I shot was evil. I had good cause on every shot. They all deserved to die.

I don’t know if I’m the best of the best. But I did know that if I quit, I wouldn’t be.

In the end, my story, in Iraq and afterward, is about more than just killing people or even fighting for my country. It’s about being a man. And it’s about love as well as hate.

Maybe war isn’t really fun, but I certainly was enjoying it.

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

It’s not a problem taking out someone who wants your people dead. That’s not a problem at all.

Actually, your past successes are your biggest obstacle: every battle, every war, is different, and you cannot assume that what worked before will work today.

When we let go of our battles and open our hearts to things as they are, then we come to rest in the present moment. This is the beginning and the end of spiritual practice.

Getting healthy isn’t just about losing weight. It’s not limited to adjusting our diet and hoping for good physical results. It’s about recalibrating our souls so that we want to change – spiritually, physically, and mentally. And the battle really is in all three areas.

The toughest battle is fighting with the one you are fighting for.

In Latin America the border between soccer and politics is vague. There is a long list of governments that have fallen or been overthrown after the defeat of the national team.

There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.

Any fool can fight a winning battle, but it needs character to fight a losing one, and that should inspire us; which reminds me that I dreamed the other night that I was being hanged, but was the life and soul of the party.

It takes more courage to dig deep in the dark corners of your own soul and the back alleys of your society than it does for a soldier to fight on the battlefield.