Quotes About Blitz

Spandau wasn't just about the music; it was about the fashion that went with it too. We were part of the New Romantic movement that happened around the Blitz nightclub in London, and we thought the best way to sell the band to America was to take the whole package to New York.

It used to be you did TV or you did film. Now it's like a media blitz.

It doesn't make much sense to blitz a guy that gets rid of the ball in less than 1.5 seconds.

One young woman sheltered with her boyfriend's parents in northern London on the third night of the Blitz. In the long account she wrote the next day, she complained that her hostess made them all tea "just for something to do" and added that "that's one trouble about the raids, people do nothing but make tea and expect you to drink it.

Until August the Luftwaffe had raided only ports and airfields. Fitz had explained, in an unusually candid moment, that the British were not so scrupulous: the government had approved bombing of targets in German cities back in May, and all through June and July the RAF had dropped bombs on women and children in their homes. The German public had been enraged by this and demanded retaliation. The Blitz was the result.

Times were very hard if you were a poor, politically correct Jewish girl living in the east end of London during the Blitz and you were trying to eke out a living as a hairdresser.

My father was a journalist. He used to write for 'Blitz' tabloid.

Churchill insisted that the Government stayed in Whitehall throughout the Blitz. 'Mr Churchill took the view', recorded Thompson, 'that it was essential that they took at least the same chances as the remainder of the population of London.

You have to learn and develop from every experience you see on the field. I might see an unscouted blitz. I might see different coverages than I'm expecting. So I need to process and make those adjustments as I go.

You have different schemes for different teams. Some teams blitz a lot, and some teams drop eight in coverage.

The phenomenon we confront is the worldwide equivalent of a forest fire, of the Blitz. We must react accordingly—with that same impulsive solidarity. Or, to restate this idea in terms of the other metaphor that has threaded through these pages: the only way to defeat the tiny but powerful coalition of meat hogs that is imperiling our whole community is to join together in a far-reaching egalitarian coalition and confront them in unison.

I can just remember the blitz of Manchester, or perhaps my father's tales about the blitz of Manchester. I can remember the blackout, the powdered eggs, and the gas masks. But I think no British person should pretend that being resident in England could count as being in the thick of the action.

It is very difficult to play a single blitz game! You want to play for a long time. So I tend not to do that anymore.

I grew up in London, a city devastated by the bombing. I am, you might say, a Blitz Baby.

In London, more people died of the virus in one four-week stretch in April than in the worst four weeks of the Blitz.

Having a big brother who taught me protections and blitz recognition has helped out a lot.

I acquired a hunger for fairy tales in the dark days of blackout and blitz in the Second World War.

During the Second World War, we lived in a flat on Whitechapel Road in the East End of London. At one point during the blitz, the air-raid sirens went off every night for 30 nights, and each time, my parents would grab my sister and me and take us to the shelter beneath Whitechapel underground station.

I did my teen-age years in World War II. War news was a constant. We kept the radio on in our house to hear Edward R. Murrow broadcasting from the rooftops of London, describing the blitz.

Weißt du, mein Vater hat mir immer gesagt, verlieben geschieht automatisch. Gegen dieses plötzliche, alles ausfüllende Gefühl, das einen wie ein Blitz ereilt, ist man machtlos. ›Verlieben ist Zufall‹, sagte er immer. Aber Liebe …« Nele machte eine kurze Pause, in der die letzte Leuchte im Park ansprang und die Natur in ein schwefelgelbes Licht tauchte. »Liebe ist eine Entscheidung.

London is a city of ghosts; you feel them here. Not just of people, but eras. The ghost of empire, or the blitz, the plague, the smoky ghost of the Great Fire that gave us Christopher Wren's churches and ushered in the Georgian city.

Brexiteers often hark back to the blitz. Maybe they think the 'Britain standing alone' motif adds much-needed heroic purpose to a Brexit future in which Britain stands without trading partners or allies to tackle climate change.

By August the blitz had begun, and in one month there were suddenly 2,500 unexploded bombs to be dealt with. Roads were closed, factories deserted. By September the number of live bombs had reached 3,700. One hundred new bomb squads were set up, but there was still no understanding of how the bombs worked. Life expectancy in these units was ten weeks.

England in the late 1940s was famously grim. As I remember it, London back then was a very dirty place, from coal dust and smoke, from the grit stirred up every day by the jackhammers still clearing out rubble from the Blitz.