
Quoted in "The Longest Day: June 6, 1944" - Page 230 - by Cornelius Ryan - History - 1994
1-Oct-2005, Radio Derby
Reaction to the booing against Leicester City after Peschisolido was substituted.
Quoted in "The Longest Day: June 6, 1944" - Page 230 - by Cornelius Ryan - History - 1994
Resignation letter http://politics.guardian.co.uk/libdems/story/0,,2191836,00.html, 15 October 2007.
On who should decide when to increase or decrease troop levels in Iraq
President Bush Discusses War on Terror, Economy with Associated General Contractors of America http://georgewbush-whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2007/05/20070502-2.html (May 2, 2007)
2000s, 2007
Salon interview (2000)
Context: In the old movies, yes, there always was the happy ending and order was restored. As it is in Shakespeare's plays. It's no disgrace to, in the end, restore order. And punish the wicked and, in some way, reward the righteous.
The President's reasoning for telling reporters in the Oval Office that the current Defense Secretary, Donald H. Rumsfeld, would be staying on, although Bush had already selected potential replacements. Given at a news conference http://georgewbush-whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2006/11/20061108-2.html (November 8, 2006)
2000s, 2006
Letter to his younger brother George (July 18, 1938)
Quoted in Matt Seaton, "I feel used," The Guardian, 16 October 2003
“The first note was clear and absolutely certain. There was no question or stumbling in this bugle.”
Robert E. Lee Prewitt playing Taps
From Here to Eternity (1951)
Context: He looked at his watch and as the second hand touched the top stepped up and raised the bugle to the megaphone, and the nervousness dropped from him like a discarded blouse, and he was suddenly alone, gone away from the rest of them.
The first note was clear and absolutely certain. There was no question or stumbling in this bugle. It swept across the quadrangle positively, held just a fraction longer than most buglers hold it. Held long like the length of time, stretching away from weary day to weary day. Held long like thirty years. The second note was short, almost too abrupt. Cut short and soon gone, like the minutes with a whore. Short like a ten minute break is short. And then the last note of the first phrase rose triumphantly from the slightly broken rhythm, triumphantly high on an untouchable level of pride above the humiliations, the degradations.
He played it all that way, with a paused then hurried rhythm that no metronome could follow. There was no placid regimented tempo to Taps. The notes rose high in the air and hung above the quadrangle. They vibrated there, caressingly, filled with an infinite sadness, an endless patience, a pointless pride, the requiem and epitaph of the common soldier, who smelled like a common soldier, as a woman had once told him. They hovered like halos over the heads of sleeping men in the darkened barracks, turning all the grossness to the beauty that is the beauty of sympathy and understanding. Here we are, they said, you made us, now see us, dont close your eyes and shudder at it; this beauty, and this sorrow, of things as they are.