Quotes About Berlin

In Berlin I especially enjoyed the orchestral concerts, and I attended a large number of them. I formed the acquaintance of a good many musicians, several of whom spoke of my playing in high terms.

Hitler recently set up a meeting with the Chief Rabbi of Berlin. He was desperate to cross the English Channel and threatened to demolish every synagogue in the city unless the rabbi told him the secret of how Moses parted the Red Sea. The rabbi replied that Moses' magic wand was currently on display at the British Museum.

Harris himself was not the villain of Dresden. The decision to mount the raids, and those on Berlin, Leipzig and Chemnitz, was taken by the combined US, Russian and British Chiefs of Staff, fully supported by Roosevelt, Stalin and Churchill. It was Harris's duty to execute their orders. Nor was Harris the architect of area bombing, a policy already in place when, in 1942, he became C-in-C of Bomber Command.

Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!

Berlin's great secret is that he says exactly what he means; sometimes he hits a gigantic line both musically and lyrically -- almost Wagnerian in its strength.

In Berlin evil came to them slowly and then all at once.

There was a cabaret, and there was a master of ceremonies... and there was a city called Berlin, in a country called Germany...and it was the end of the world.

Only through acknowledgment of the erasure and void of Jewish life can the history of Berlin and Europe have a human future.

Werner sleeps in a tiny dormitory with seven other fourteen-year-olds. The bunk above belongs to Frederick: a reedy boy, thin as a blade of grass, skin as pale as cream. Frederick is new too. He's from Berlin. His father is assistant to an ambassador. When Frederick speaks, his attention floats up, as though he's scanning the sky for something.

The afternoon is bright enough, but Berlin seems not to want to accept the sunlight, as though its buildings have become gloomier and dirtier and more splotchy int he months since he last visited. Though perhaps what has changed are the eyes that see it.

Berlin seems not to want to accept the sunlight, as though its buildings have become gloomier and dirtier and more splotchy in the months since he last visited. Though perhaps what has changed are the eyes that see it.

Berlin is like being abroad in Germany. It's German, but not provincial.

I went to Berlin to study psychology but decided that I was more interested in music and started an R and B band.

I was a foreign correspondent in Berlin in the mid-'90s.

I was always drawn to Broadway musicals, and obviously composers like Gershwin, Rodgers, Berlin and Porter were writing music that I found wildly impressive.

I found a book facing out that I'd always meant to read: William Shirer's 'The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich.' About a third of the way through, I suddenly, finally caught up to the fact that Shirer had been there in Berlin, from 1934 on, and was finally kicked out when the U.S. entered the war.

I've seen things change and people forget: the history of Berlin, the history of queer struggle, the history of AIDS, the history of New York changing from an artistic powerhouse to more of a financial one now.

Mintis tuojau pat vykti ? Berlyn?, per pa?ius karš?ius, aišku, tre?ia klase, kad nužudy?iau Hitler?, ir visi su tuo susij? pasiruošimai, nerv? ?tampa bei nuovargis man?s visai nežav?jo. <...> Bemeilijau nužudyti fiurer? spal?, prasid?jus mokslo metams.

Besides, nothing mattered to her any longer. If she had anything left it was her horror of cold — and the uncle had coal through his contacts. But she found the atmosphere of Berlin hard to bear. She dreamed of escape, of going to live under some more clement sky, far, very far away from it all, closer to nature.

Come here to this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!

Order prevails in Berlin!" You foolish lackeys! Your "order" is built on sand. Tomorrow the revolution will "rise up again, clashing its weapons," and to your horror it will proclaim with trumpets blazing: I was, I am, I shall be!

Halifax went to Berlin in the fall of 1937 and met with the German leader at Berchtesgaden: he was the only other member of England's ruling circle to have spent time with the Führer. Their meeting wasn't some meaningless diplomatic reception. It began with Halifax mistaking Hitler for a footman and almost handing him his coat. And then

Yes, even old American writers are dancing like it is still the eighties in San Francisco, like the sexual revolution has been won, like the war is over and Berlin has been liberated, one's own self has been liberated; and what the Bavarian in his arms is whispering is true, and everyone, everyone—even Arthur Less—is loved.

As I recall, the cover of Time the week the Wall fell read, "Wall Comes Down, No Big Whoop.