Auberson’s first impression of the man was of eight pounds of potatoes in a ten-pound sack. - David Gerrold

Whatever our purpose, we probably aren't fulfilling it. We're not functioning as we should.
He shrugged at her. "How should we function?"
"Like human beings." She said it righteously.
"Isn't that what the human race is already doing? Functioning like human beings—squabbling with each other, killing each other, hating...?"
"That's not human."
"Oh, but it is. It's very human."
"Well, it's not what human should be."
"Now that's a different story. You're not talking about what people are, but what you want them to be."
"Well, maybe we should be what we aren't because what we are now isn't good enough. Maybe we should be dismantled."
"I don't think we have to worry too much about somebody up there doing it—we're doing it ourselves."

Ah well—the boss didn’t have to know how to run the business. He only needed to know how to run the people who knew.

They say that killing is a mortal sin, that it is against the laws of God. If that is true—and I know now that it must be—if that is true, then every man who has ever taken a human life has been, from that moment on, damned for eternity. No matter how many men or nations say that it is all right for a man to take up arms against an enemy, it does not change that one basic fact—killing is a mortal sin.
And every one of those simple white markers we had stood among represents a soul condemned.
A nation had sentenced her sons to damnation so that she might survive.
There’s no such thing as a “moral war.”