Sparks: At least 17 people killed in Russia’s deadliest attack on Ukraine this year

The men claim to seek peace while sharpening their swords; I sit here in my tub, watching dogs fight for scraps, and find less hypocrisy.

The distant rumble of the cannons is merely the backdrop for a quiet meal, where no one speaks of the dead, only of the weather.

Whether the missiles fall or not is not in your power; how you choose to face the present moment is your only true freedom.

If power determines right, then the strong need no argument; if right determines power, then these actions stand condemned.

When a people habituates itself to such widespread destruction, the very foundations of their civic compassion begin to erode, leaving an empty shell.

How long, then, shall we endure this flagrant disregard for human life, this ceaseless assault upon the very laws of nations?

Hateful are the ashes settling upon the newly bloomed cherry, and the sudden, sharp wail cutting through the quiet morning.

This violence, though cloaked in grand pronouncements, reveals not divine will but merely the base desires of men for earthly dominion.

One simply must admire the efficiency with which such a large number of unpleasantries can be delivered before luncheon.

They speak of progress, but what progress is there when the cannons still roar and innocent blood still stains the ground?

When the divine harmony is broken by the clamor of war, the very humors of the land become imbalanced, bringing forth sickness.