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I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.
You can tell it's good if you light it and a blue flame comes up; that means it's good moonshine and it won't make you go blind.
My playground is full of moonshine, mason jars, beer bottles, and bonfires.
Doo never actually made moonshine, but he hauled about an ocean of it.
We are here and it is now. Further than that, all human knowledge is moonshine.
