The North American air war struck Potter as a duel with machine guns at a pace and a half. — Harry Turtledove

That was either the most brilliant analysis she’d ever heard—or the most breathtakingly cynical one. For the life of her, she couldn't decide which. Maybe it was both at once. Was that better or worse? She couldn't make up her mind there, either.

Hardly anything is more pleasant than talking about why other people are a pack of damn fools.

Never can tell with this, though. That there man taught the Mississippi to be twisty.