Renate Blume Quotes & Sayings

After the German occupation of Holland in May 1940, the last two dark years of the war I spent hiding indoors from the Nazis, eating tulip bulbs to fill the stomach and reading Kramers' book "Quantum Theorie des Elektrons und der Strahlung" by the light of a storm lamp. — Nicolaas Bloembergen

The author gives an interesting naval etymology of the word "opportunity". It referred to days in which sailing ships had to wait outside a port for the appropriate tide, which then was their chance until the next tide. — Mark Batterson

In fact, the recent increase in intra-firm trading enables businesses to shift their activities across borders smoothly, thereby strengthening the response of economic activity to exchange rate movements in the long run. — Toshihiko Fukui

How friendly we should all be with one another if nobody were interested in money and honor. — Teresa Of Avila

If wisdom in government eludes us, perhaps courage could substitute-the moral courage to terminate mistakes. — Barbara Tuchman

Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, In action faithful, and in honour clear; Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end, Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend. — Alexander Pope

The people most successful at both giving and receiving love are not the ones who walk around degrading and bad-mouthing themselves all the time, but those who are fully in love with themselves and fully aware that they are loved by God. Because they are at peace within themselves about themselves, they are free both to give love and to allow others to love them. — Myles Munroe

Why in the age of feminism do we still use the phrase "women and children"? — Charles Krauthammer

It was not my wish to come into politics. I was not a public person; I preferred to spend my birthdays with family and friends. But the 2008 elections were fraudulent, so I decided to finance the opposition to make them stronger. — Bidzina Ivanishvili

He'd unbuttoned his shirt so the night breeze would soothe him; his body always ran too hot. The blood. Too hot. The large, gold crucifix on his neck, dangling to his thick chest hairs, caught there, and winked in the candlelight. His childhood prayers. For food. Warmth. His beloved mother. That the cruelty of his father. Stop. No more. Beatings. He never. Stopped. Beating her. Mama. [...] Pompeii remembered - like tuning into a clear TV channel - his mother's gentle face. Her fingertips on his boy's face, calming him to sleep. The sound of his father's drunken entrance, when she would hold her breath, stop stroking his boy face. — Alma Luz Villanueva