Quotes About Leningrad

In the 1980s one would see rows of silent commuters in the crowded undergrounds of Moscow and Leningrad, their heads buried in serious books covered in newspaper to protect the binding (and, in those open but still uncertain times, perhaps to hide the title: in 1988 I was roughly arrested on the Leningrad metro by young Communist vigilantes who noticed that I was reading a book on shamanism).

Brodsky was born in May, 1940, a year before the German invasion. His mother worked as an accountant; his father was a photographer and worked for the Navy Museum in Leningrad when Brodsky was young. They were doting parents and much beloved by Iosif Brodsky, who was their only child.

Stalin was especially furious with the "Leningrad Clique" of Zhdanov, who had assured him that the Finnish war would amount to little more than a police action, a nuisance that could be concluded in two weeks.

is eating her brain consumes only the fresher memories, the unripe moments. Her distant past is preserved, better than preserved. Moments that occurred in Leningrad sixty-some years

He nods solemnly and repeats the stock response of the Housing Committee whenever they address the perpetual shortage of apartments in Leningrad. "Privacy is a conceit of degenerate societies.

I was born in Leningrad, but I came here from Saint Petersburg. Physically, the two occupy the same space. Emotionally, they are light years apart.

And you, my friends who have been called away, I have been spared to mourn for you and weep, not as a frozen willow over your memory, but to cry to the world the names of those who sleep. What names are those! I slam shut the calendar, down on your knees, all! Blood of my heart, the people of Leningrad march out in even rows, the living, the dead: fame can't tell them apart.

In those years only the dead smiled, Glad to be at rest: And Leningrad city swayed like A needless appendix to its prisons.

Shelling, many felt, was actually worse than bombing, since bombardments were not preceded by an alarm. From 4 September to the end of the year the Wehrmacht's heavy artillery pounded Leningrad 272 times, for up to eighteen hours at a stretch, with a total of over 13,000 shells. (...) The rumour that some shells were filled only with granulated sugar, or held supportive notes from sympathetic German workers, was a soothing invention.

At this period, too, Leningraders resorted to their most desperate food substitutes, scraping dried glue from the underside of wallpaper and boiling up shoes and belts. (Tannery processes had changed, they discovered, since the days of Amundsen and Nansen, and the leather remained tough and inedible.)

Que signifie depuis le début, Leningrad, le désir de faire l'amour dans le noir ? Il ferme aussi toujours les yeux. Sauf quand je lui caresse le sexe avec ma bouche, il se soulève pour voir, si je lève les yeux, il détourne les siens aussitôt. Est-ce cela la honte, le refoulement

Hier, on se disputait à reconstituer le séjour de Leningrad, l'emploi du temps des deux jours. Il voulait lire mon journal. On a encore parlé de Staline, de la guerre. Son père a été « décoré » par Staline...

In what was called the second siege of Leningrad, thousands died, but Putin and his partners in crime got rich. Then Putin killed even more Russians when he had the FSB explode bombs in apartment buildings in Moscow in 1999 to give himself the pretext to seize dictatorial powers.

Basically, that marble fucker is hanging by a thread. So when the rally starts, stay to the side. And warn your wife." "But the cream of Leningrad will be standing there! What if the thing falls?" "Might be for the best, the foreman replied wanly.

am and am not in Leningrad. Am I? Of course I am! It's as if I never left. What a lie! My heart is somewhere else. GOLDFISH I was in my second year of secondary school.

We'll meet again in Lvov, my love and I…" Tatiana hums, eating her ice cream, in our Leningrad, in jasmine June, near Fontanka, the Neva, the Summer Garden, where we are forever young.

Falling in love with you in the Summer Garden in the white nights in Leningrad is the moment that propels me through life.

I was born in Leningrad, U.S.S.R., before my father got an appointment at a university in Italy and we moved to Italy. I spend a few years there before my family returned to Russia.

We were the first small American jazz group since Sidney Bechet in 1927 to play for the public in Moscow and Leningrad.

In a city by the sea which was once called St. Petersburg, then Petrograd, then Leningrad, then, much later, St. Petersburg again, there stood a long, thin house on a long, thin street. By a long, thin window, a child in a pale blue dress and pale green slippers waited for a bird to marry her.

And as we watched, the Tsar of Death lifted up his eyelids like skirts and began to dance in the streets of Leningrad.

In the fall of 1963, in Leningrad, in what was then the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, the young poet Dmitry Bobyshev stole the young poet Joseph Brodsky's girlfriend.

In addition, he had a rare first edition of Krylov's Fables, with Krylov's own notes handwritten on many of the pages, inserted into Gardiner's package. The volume had been requisitioned from the private collection of a recently arrested Jewish member of the Academy of Sciences in Leningrad.

I am asked if I think the war was a just war ... how can I answer? I was a boy born and raised in beautiful Leningrad, a boy who loved his parents and went obediently to school. A boy who was yanked out of that life and dumped in a strange land where life followed different rules.