"I want to make someone walk straight, but I've left my sons nothing but wars"
About this Quote
A cop’s fantasy of moral housekeeping crashes into the wreckage he’s already handed down. Coming from Broderick Crawford, an actor synonymous with heavy-jawed authority (most famously as Chief Dan Mathews in All the King’s Men), the line plays like a confession smuggled inside a badge. “Make someone walk straight” is the language of blunt, old-school discipline: the idea that order can be imposed by force of will, a stern look, a nightstick, a lecture. It’s not “help” or “understand.” It’s straighten.
Then the sentence pivots, and the swagger curdles into inheritance. “I’ve left my sons nothing but wars” reframes the speaker’s righteousness as collateral damage. The subtext is generational: men who pride themselves on keeping society in line often can’t keep their own legacies clean. “Wars” isn’t just battlefield conflict; it’s feuds, political messes, moral compromises, the institutional violence that gets normalized as protection. The line admits that the crusade for public virtue can quietly bankrupt private responsibility.
Contextually, it fits a mid-century American mood where tough-guy governance and postwar fatigue coexist. The Greatest Generation myth promises stability earned through sacrifice; this quote punctures that by asking what, exactly, the sacrifice produced at home. Crawford’s persona makes it sting: the man built to play certainty is suddenly articulating doubt. The intent isn’t self-pity; it’s indictment, aimed at the seductive belief that you can police the world into goodness while your own house inherits the aftermath.
Then the sentence pivots, and the swagger curdles into inheritance. “I’ve left my sons nothing but wars” reframes the speaker’s righteousness as collateral damage. The subtext is generational: men who pride themselves on keeping society in line often can’t keep their own legacies clean. “Wars” isn’t just battlefield conflict; it’s feuds, political messes, moral compromises, the institutional violence that gets normalized as protection. The line admits that the crusade for public virtue can quietly bankrupt private responsibility.
Contextually, it fits a mid-century American mood where tough-guy governance and postwar fatigue coexist. The Greatest Generation myth promises stability earned through sacrifice; this quote punctures that by asking what, exactly, the sacrifice produced at home. Crawford’s persona makes it sting: the man built to play certainty is suddenly articulating doubt. The intent isn’t self-pity; it’s indictment, aimed at the seductive belief that you can police the world into goodness while your own house inherits the aftermath.
Quote Details
| Topic | Father |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
More Quotes by Broderick
Add to List








