Apes | War For The Planet Of The

“I will kill him,” Caesar growled, low in his throat. Not a command. A fact.

And on the human side of the river, the Colonel lit a cigar, looked at the dark forest, and whispered to his radioman: War for the Planet of the Apes

Caesar had cut him down with his own hands. He had not wept. Ape leaders do not weep where others can see. But when he looked up at the stars through the canopy, he made a vow that silenced the wind. “I will kill him,” Caesar growled, low in his throat

“The children are starving,” Maurice signed. “The horses are dead. We cannot run again.” And on the human side of the river,

The War for the Planet of the Apes had not begun with a battle. It began with a father walking into the rain, carrying a spear he had sharpened on the grave of his son.

“War,” Maurice signed, his old eyes sad. “That is what he wants. To make you an animal.”

The rain did not wash away the sins. It only made them colder.