Don't Be Sad That Roses Have Thorns.

He Picked Up The Wrench And Broke The Guy’s Wrist With It, One, And Then The Other Wrist, Two, And Turned Back And Did The Same To The Guy Who Had Held The Hammer, Three, Four. The Two Men Were Somebody’s Weapons, Consciously Deployed, And No Soldier Left An Enemy’s Abandoned Ordnance On The Field In Working Order. The Doctor’s Wife Was Watching From The Cabin Door, All Kinds Of Terror In Her Face. "what?" Reacher Asked Her.

I Just Felt From Personal Observation That There Is Nothing More Dislocated Or Alienated Than A Lifelong Military Person Trying To Cope In Civilian Life. It's Like Two Completely Separate Planets.

I Don't Want To Put The World To Rights... I Just Don't Like People Who Put The World To Wrongs.

People, Reacher Was Certain About. Dogs Were Different. People Had Freedom Of Choice. If A Man Or A Woman Ran Snarling Toward Him, They Did So Because They Chose To. They Were Asking For Whatever They Got. His Response Was Their Problem. But Dogs Were Different. No Free Will. Easily Misled. It Raised An Ethical Problem. Shooting A Dog Because It Had Been Induced To Do Something Unwise Was Not The Sort Of Thing Reacher Wanted To Do.

I Went To College. West Point Is Technically A College.