Candide

by Voltaire

“Sir, I think nothing of the sort,” replied the scholar. “It seems to me that everything is going wrong in this country, that no one knows his rank or his responsibilities, and that except during supper, when people are in rather good spirits and seem to get along with each other fairly well, the rest of the time is spent in senseless quarrels: Jansenists against Molinists, Parliament against Church, men of letters against men of letters, courtiers against courtiers, financiers against the people, wives against husbands, relatives against relatives; it's an endless war.”

I don’t want to presume that Voltaire is exploring the concept of endless war here, but it intrigues me that this term has come up so often in my recent reading. I beg to ask how much this applies to our current state of things. How often are we kept in endless war with each other, thus turning from our gardens?