Quotes About History

Cultivation, old civilization, beauty, history! Surprising turnings of streets, shapes of venerable cottages, lovely aged eaves, unexpected and gossamer turrets, steeples, the gloss, the antiquity! Gardens. Whoever speaks of Paris has never seen Warsaw. [...] Whoever yearns for an aristocratic sensibility, let him switch on the great light of Warsaw.

By replacing history with fantasy, the Palestinians have invented a society unlike any other, where hatred trumps bread. They have reared children unlike any other children, removed from ordinary norms and behaviors.

gunpowder, made from saltpeter (potassium nitrate), sulfur, and carbon.

Muslims did not force religious conversion and, except for Egypt, expanded into areas with sparse populations.

During the 350 years of the Atlantic slave trade, Muslim slave traders took an estimated 2.1 million enslaved Africans from the east coast to Arabian and Indian ports. Overall, the Muslim slave trade lasted twelve centuries and shipped approximately 14 to 15 million people. Possibly as many people were enslaved within Africa as were shipped west and east.

The civilization of one epoch becomes the manure of the next.

What grape to keep its place in the sun, taught our ancestors to make wine?

Most distinguished voyager, what was your eon like? —Comic. Terror is forgotten. Only the ridiculous is remembered by posterity. Death from a wound, from a noose, from starvation Is one death, but folly is uncounted and new every year.

No, non imiterò mai coloro che cancellano le proprie tracce, ripudiano il proprio passato e sono morti, anche se con equilibrismi intellettuali fanno finta di essere vivi. Le mie radici sono laggiù, all'Est, su questo non v'è alcun dubbio. Anche se trovo difficile e spiacevole spiegare chi sono, bisogna pur tentare di farlo.

Indeed, the price one had to pay to remain true to the logic of History was terrible. One had to behold passively the death of thousands, take on one's conscience the torture of women and children transformed into human torches

In other words the little piece of polished wood had become one of her treasures. Sometimes she took it out and held it in her hand and thought about the man who had made it, and wondered what he had looked like; (she had such a very hazy idea of history that she imagined him shaggy and attired in the skin of a bear). And she wondered how the arrow had got broken and where the other piece of it could be . . . but although she searched assiduously, high and low, she never found it.

They were fletchers." "Fletchers?" "People who made arrows and feathered them—I can tell you that much. The village down the road is called Archerfield, so it's only reasonable to suppose that they practised archery in that big meadow down by the stream." "And the people in this house made the arrows!

contemporary reports are not always completely accurate and reminiscences are not necessarily flawed.

Only about 15 percent of white Americans belonged to any church during the colonial period.

Theology is like rowing a boat. You can only move forward when you are looking backwards.

McCoy: Representing the High Tier...Leonard James Akaar. Spock: The child was named Leonard James Akaar? Kirk nods. McCoy: Has a kind of a ring to it don't you think, James? Kirk: Yes, I think it is a name that will go down in galactic history, Leonard. What do you think, Spock? Spock: I think you both will be insufferably pleased with yourselves for at least a month...sir.

These walls have sheltered joys, and sorrows, and hopes and fears innumerable; they have rung with the noise of revelry and the sound of grief; children have been born, and grown to manhood and died within their shelter – and now they are crumbling to ruin, fit only for the owl and the jackdaw to live in and build their nests.

It was when General Franco was marching on Madrid," said Tommy. "Somebody asked him how many troops he had, and he replied that he had four columns with him and a fifth column in Madrid itself. Now, of course, the term fifth column has passed into everyday use and is taken to mean—well, to mean traitors, really, but that wasn't General Franco's meaning

I switch on the light beside my bed and the old, beautiful room takes shape – the four-poster with its carved oak pillars, the dark oak chest, the dressing table with its prude petticoat of spotted muslin, the low, uneven ceiling, the wavy oak floor. How many hundreds and thousands of people have awakened in this room; awakened to their sorrows and their joys, their hopes and their fears?

I switch on the light beside my bed and the old, beautiful room takes shape – the four-poster with its carved oak pillars, the dark oak chest, the dressing table with its prude petticoat of spotted muslin, the low, uneven ceiling, the wavy oak floor. How many hundreds and thousands of people have awakened in this room; awakened to their sorrows and their joys, their hopes and their fears? Strange that I should have slept so well, untroubled by the haunting of their thoughts!

The Major would be laughing at me,' replies Alec, smiling. 'But no, I would be wanting no war for him. It is only that I am glad now there was one for me. I was not glad at the time, no, not altogether glad. Wars are bad things, and we want no more of them – but there is good in them for the lucky ones.' 'I believe you are right,' says

didn't want it," he said. "It didn't matter to me if 'itler took Poland. What's Poland to me? Why didn't we let 'im 'ave Poland if that's what 'e wanted." "Poland was just the beginning. He would have swallowed Poland first and then he'd have come for us—one at a time, that was his idea.

The other day I said to Waldron I'd give him a book to read—any book he liked—and he said he never read anything except the papers. He said he liked true stories, not made-up ones. Then I said, what about history? And he said, ' That's over and done with. All that matters to me is what happens between the time I was born and the time when I die.' What can you do with a man like that, David?

The history of each and every territory is written in the blood of those who died trying to fulfill the aspirations of their ambitious leaders.