Waterloo Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
the-views-from-waterloo-bridge-are-amazing-you-can-see-much-london
we-love-cedar-falls-waterloo-really-enjoy-our-business-jeff-martin
the-battle-waterloo-was-won-on-playing-fields-eton
well-what-i-want-them-to-know-is-just-like-john-wayne-was-from-waterloo-iowa-thats-the-kind-of-spirit-that-i-have-too
growing-up-in-waterloo-governor-generals-award-wasnt-something-i-even-thought-to-wish-for
sometimes-i-have-to-pinch-myself-to-think-have-i-really-come-this-far-because-it-is-quite-different-where-i-find-myself-today-from-where-i-started-off-in-streets-waterloo-in-subu
pile-bodies-high-at-austerlitz-waterloo-shovel-them-under-let-me-work-i-am-grass-i-cover-all-carl-sandburg
take-newspaper-account-waterloo-trafalgar-with-all-small-advertisements-it-seems-much-more-real-than-reading-about-it-in-history-book
so-why-after-prior-successes-did-obamas-raceclassgender-attack-finally-sputter-out-like-french-at-waterloo-victor-davis-hanson
if-battle-waterloo-was-won-on-playing-fields-eaton-japanese-bases-in-pacific-were-captured-on-beaches-caribbean-holland-smith
when-first-just-friendly-man-appeared-on-earth-from-that-day-fatal-waterloo-was-visible-for-all-men-pride-fraud-blood-charles-fletcher-dole
my-true-glory-is-not-to-have-won-40-battles-waterloo-will-erase-memory-many-victories-but-what-will-live-forever-is-my-civil-code-napoleon-bonaparte
nero-fiddled-while-rome-burnt-napoleon-met-his-waterloo-samson-went-spare-when-delilah-cut-his-hair-but-little-david-slew-goliath-too-van-morrison
if-purpose-stumpy-little-nft-theatre-under-waterloo-bridge-is-not-to-acquaint-young-audiences-with-ozu-with-ophuels-with-d-w-griffith-with-agnes-varda-then-what-exactly-does-it-e
nero-fiddled-while-rome-burnt-napoleon-met-his-waterloo-samson-went-spare-when-delilah-cut-his-hair-but-little-david-slew-goliath-too-oh-yeah-van-morrison
a-book-is-arrangement-twentysix-phonetic-symbols-ten-numerals-about-eight-punctuation-marks-people-can-cast-their-eyes-over-these-envision-eruption-mount-vesuvius-battle-waterloo
in-january-1921-i-found-myself-wonderfully-alone-in-empty-carriage-in-rocking-train-in-night-between-waterloo-sherborne-stars-on-each-side-me-i-ran-from-side-to-side-carriage-che
IT is not impossible that among the English readers of this book there may be one who in 1915 and 1916 was in one of those trenches that were woven like a web among the ruins of Monchy-au-Bois. In that case he had opposite him at that time the 73rd Hanoverian Fusiliers, who wear as their distinctive badge a brassard with ' Gibraltar ' inscribed on it in gold, in memory of the defence of that fortress under General Elliot; for this, besides Waterloo, has its place in the regiment's history. At the time I refer to I was a nineteen-year-old lieutenant in command of a platoon, and my part of the line was easily recognizable from the English side by a row of tall shell-stripped trees that rose from the ruins of Monchy. My left flank was bounded by the sunken road leading to Berles-au-Bois, which was in the hands of the English ; my right was marked by a sap running out from our lines, one that helped us many a time to make our presence felt by means of bombs and rifle-grenades. I daresay this reader remembers, too, the white tom-cat, lamed in one foot by a stray bullet, who had his headquarters in No-man's-land. He used often to pay me a visit at night in my dugout. This creature, the sole living being that was on visiting terms with both sides, always made on me an impression of extreme mystery. This charm of mystery which lay over all that belonged to the other side, to that danger zone full of unseen figures, is one of the strongest impressions that the war has left with me. At that time, before the battle of the Somme, which opened a new chapter in the history of the war, the struggle had not taken on that grim and mathematical aspect which cast over its landscapes a deeper and deeper gloom. There was more rest for the soldier than in the later years when he was thrown into one murderous battle after another ; and so it is that many of those days come back to my memory now with a light on them that is almost peaceful.

Ernst Je¼nger
it-is-not-impossible-that-among-english-readers-this-book-there-may-be-one-who-in-1915-1916-was-in-one-those-trenches-that-were-woven-like-web-among-ruins-monchyaubois-in-that-ca
A little while ago, I stood by the grave of the old Napoleon-a magnificent tomb of gilt and gold, fit almost for a dead deity-and gazed upon the sarcophagus of rare and nameless marble, where rest at last the ashes of that restless man. I leaned over the balustrade and thought about the career of the greatest soldier of the modern world. I saw him walking upon the banks of the Seine, contemplating suicide. I saw him at Toulon-I saw him putting down the mob in the streets of Paris-I saw him at the head of the army of Italy-I saw him crossing the bridge of Lodi with the tri-color in his hand-I saw him in Egypt in the shadows of the pyramids-I saw him conquer the Alps and mingle the eagles of France with the eagles of the crags. I saw him at Marengo-at Ulm and Austerlitz. I saw him in Russia, where the infantry of the snow and the cavalry of the wild blast scattered his legions like winter's withered leaves. I saw him at Leipsic in defeat and disaster-driven by a million bayonets back upon Paris-clutched like a wild beast-banished to Elba. I saw him escape and retake an empire by the force of his genius. I saw him upon the frightful field of Waterloo, where Chance and Fate combined to wreck the fortunes of their former king. And I saw him at St. Helena, with his hands crossed behind him, gazing out upon the sad and solemn sea. I thought of the orphans and widows he had made-of the tears that had been shed for his glory, and of the only woman who ever loved him, pushed from his heart by the cold hand of ambition. And I said I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden shoes. I would rather have lived in a hut with a vine growing over the door, and the grapes growing purple in the kisses of the autumn sun. I would rather have been that poor peasant with my loving wife by my side, knitting as the day died out of the sky-with my children upon my knees and their arms about me-I would rather have been that man and gone down to the tongueless silence of the dreamless dust, than to have been that imperial impersonation of force and murder, known as 'Napoleon the Great.

Robert G. Ingersoll
a-little-while-ago-i-stood-by-grave-old-napoleon-magnificent-tomb-gilt-gold-fit-almost-for-dead-deity-gazed-upon-sarcophagus-rare-nameless-marble-where-rest-at-last-ashes-that-re
I'M LOSING FAITH IN MY FAVORITE COUNTRY Throughout my life, the United States has been my favorite country, save and except for Canada, where I was born, raised, educated, and still live for six months each year. As a child growing up in Waterloo, Ontario, Canada, I aggressively bought and saved baseball cards of American and National League players, spent hours watching snowy images of American baseball and football games on black and white television and longed for the day when I could travel to that great country. Every Saturday afternoon, me and the boys would pay twelve cents to go the show and watch U.S. made movies, and particularly, the Superman serial. Then I got my chance. My father, who worked for B.F. Goodrich, took my brother and me to watch the Cleveland Indians play baseball in the Mistake on the Lake in Cleveland. At last I had made it to the big time. I thought it was an amazing stadium and it was certainly not a mistake. Amazingly, the Americans thought we were Americans. I loved the United States, and everything about the country: its people, its movies, its comic books, its sports, and a great deal more. The country was alive and growing. No, exploding. It was the golden age of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The American dream was alive and well, but demanded hard work, honesty, and frugality. Everyone understood that. Even the politicians. Then everything changed. Partly because of its proximity to the United States and a shared heritage, Canadians also aspired to what was commonly referred to as the American dream. I fall neatly into that category. For as long as I can remember I wanted a better life, but because I was born with a cardboard spoon in my mouth, and wasn't a member of the golden gene club, I knew I would have to make it the old fashioned way: work hard and save. After university graduation I spent the first half of my career working for the two largest oil companies in the world: Exxon and Royal Dutch Shell. The second half was spent with one of the smallest oil companies in the world: my own. Then I sold my company and retired into obscurity. In my case obscurity was spending summers in our cottage on Lake Rosseau in Muskoka, Ontario, and winters in our home in Port St. Lucie, Florida. My wife, Ann, and I, (and our three sons when they can find the time), have been enjoying that 'obscurity' for a long time. During that long time we have been fortunate to meet and befriend a large number of Americans, many from Tom Brokaw's 'Greatest Generation.' One was a military policeman in Tokyo in 1945. After a very successful business carer in the U.S. he's retired and living the dream. Another American friend, also a member of the 'Greatest Generation', survived The Battle of the Bulge and lived to drink Hitler's booze at Berchtesgaden in 1945. He too is happily retired and living the dream. Both of these individuals got to where they are by working hard, saving, and living within their means. Both also remember when their Federal Government did the same thing. One of my younger American friends recently sent me a You Tube video, featuring an impassioned speech by Marco Rubio, Republican senator from Florida. In the speech, Rubio blasts the spending habits of his Federal Government and deeply laments his country's future. He is outraged that the U.S. Government spends three hundred billion dollars, each and every month. He is even more outraged that one hundred and twenty billion of that three hundred billion dollars is borrowed. In other words, Rubio states that for every dollar the U.S. Government spends, forty cents is borrowed. I don't blame him for being upset. If I had run my business using that arithmetic, I would be in the soup kitchens. If individual American families had applied that arithmetic to their finances, none of them would be in a position to pay a thin dime of taxes. In this connection I witnessed what I consider to be t

Stephen Douglass
im-losing-faith-in-my-favorite-country-throughout-my-life-united-states-has-been-my-favorite-country-save-except-for-canada-where-i-was-born-raised-educated-still-live-for-six-mo
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