Paddy Chayefsky - The Americanization Of Emily - In Praise of Cowardice, and Against the Sentimentality of the Virtues of War lyrics

[Charlie] I discovered I was a coward. That's my new religion. I'm a big believer in it. Cowardice will save the world. It's not war that's insane, you see. It's the morality of it. It's not greed or ambition that makes wars. It's goodness. Wars are always fought for the best of reasons: for liberation or manifest destiny - always against tyranny and always in the interest of humanity. So far this war, we've managed to butcher some 10,000,000 humans in the interest of humanity. Next war, it seems we'll have to destroy all of man in order to preserve his damn dignity. It's not war that's unnatural to us. It's virtue. As long as valor remains a virtue, we shall have soldiers. So, I preach cowardice. Through cowardice, we shall all be saved... [Mrs. Barham] "and after this, I'm sure all the generals will dash off and write books about the blunders made by other generals and statesmen will publish their secret diaries and it'll show beyond any shadow of doubt that war could easily have been avoided in the first place. And the rest of us, of course, will be left with the job of bandaging the wounded and burying the dead." [Charlie] I don't trust people who make bitter reflections about war, Mrs. Barham. It's always the generals with the bloodiest records who are the first to shout what a hell it is. It's always the war widows who lead the Memorial Day parades.... We shall never end wars, Mrs. Barham, by blaming it on ministers and generals or warmongering imperialists or all the other ban*l bogeys. It's the rest of us who build statues to those generals and name boulevards after those ministers. The rest of us who make heroes of our dead and shrines of our battlefields. We wear our widow's weeds like nuns, Mrs. Barham, and perpetuate war by exalting its sacrifices. My brother died at Anzio...Yes. An everyday soldier's d**h, no special heroism involved. They buried what pieces they found of him. But my mother insists he died a brave d**h and pretends to be very proud... Now my other brother can't wait to reach enlistment age. That'll be in September... Maybe ministers and generals who blunder us into wars, Mrs. Barham, the least the rest of us can do is to resist honoring the institution. What has my mother got for pretending bravery was admirable? She's under constant sedation and terrified she may wake up one morning and find her last son has run off to be brave.