Austria Beauty Quotes

Australia eventually offered us sanctuary. Mum and Dad were overjoyed. Dad walked around the island asking people if they had any spare warm clothes. He collected a big bundle of jumpers and blankets because he’d heard about Australia—‘Beautiful country, friendly people, but really cold. It’s right near Switzerland.’ That’s my dad, great at rescues, crap at geography. We touched down in Sydney, Australia in thirty-degree Celsius heat and my family were thinking, Geez, Austria’s really hot, man!

VIENNA, March 11–12 (4 a.m.) The worst has happened! Schuschnigg is out. The Nazis are in. The Reichswehr is invading Austria. Hitler has broken a dozen solemn promises, pledges, treaties. And Austria is finished. Beautiful, tragic, civilized Austria! Gone. Done to death in the brief moment of an afternoon. This afternoon.

Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed him sweetly on the lips, “I promise you a love affair with a sun-bathed Austrian princess beyond anything you imagine—in love, in beauty, in intensity. A love that will power you to the end of our time together. You are going to be a fortunate man, Geoffrey Ashbrook.

A few more years of the same, though, and I got used to it: I would load entire libraries from country castles and city mansions, fine, rare, leather- and Morroco-bound books, load whole trains full, and as soon as a train had thirty cars, off it would go to Switzerland or Austria, one kilogram of rare books for the equivalent of one crown of convertible currency, and nobody blinked an eye, nobody shed a tear, not even I myself, no, all I did was stand there smiling as I watched the train hauling those priceless libraries off to Switzerland and Austria for one crown in convertible currency a kilo. By then I had mustered the strength to look upon misfortune with composure, to still my emotions, by then I had begun to understand the beauty of destruction and I loaded more and more freight cars, and more and more trains left the station heading west at one crown per kilogram, and as I stood there staring after the red lantern hanging from the last car, as I stood there leaning on a lamppost like Leonardo da Vinci, who stood leaning on a column and looking on while French soldiers used his statue for target practice, shooting away horse and rider bit by bit, I thought how Leonardo, like me, standing and witnessing such horrors with complete composure, had realized even than that neither the heavens are humane nor is any man with a head on his shoulders.

I have been to the Alpine countries of Austria and Ardamia before, but never to this corner of the range, and while the journey to St. Liesl, which perches high above sea level, was not a comfortable one, it took my breath away. The path wound up a mountainside still dotted with the last of the summer flowers, snowbells and cheery buttercups. Mountains cluttered every horizon, many crowned in an eternal snow. Below us was the town of Leoburg with its railroad, its neat stone-and-timber buildings, its sharp and commanding steeple, but the higher we went, the more all this was dwarfed by the wildness surrounding it, the railroad a thin line of stitches connecting us to the world we knew. And then we rounded a bend in the path, and we could no longer see the town at all. I understand now why the folklore of the Alps is so rich--- the many folds and crevices in the mountainsides could hide any number of faerie doors opening onto dozens of stories.

I was still in the Gymnasium when this short pamphlet, penetrating as a steel shaft, appeared; but I can still remember the general astonishment and annoyance of the bourgeois Jewish circles of Vienna. What has happened, they said angrily, to this otherwise intelligent, witty and cultivated writer? What foolishness is this that he has thought up and writes about? Why should we go to Palestine? Our language is German and not Hebrew, and beautiful Austria is our homeland. Are we not well off under the good Emperor Franz Josef? Do we not make a decent living, and is our position not secure? Are we not equal subjects, inhabitants and loyal citizens of our beloved Vienna? Do we not live in a progressive era in which in a few decades all sectarian prejudices will be abolished? Why does he, who speaks as a Jew and who wishes to help Judaism, place arguments in the hands of our worst enemies and attempt to separate us, when every day brings us more closely and intimately into the German world?

I was a jew who didn't practice Judaism, a Viennese banished from Austria, and an enemy alien in Britain.

The rolling hills we traveled through were lined with rows of crisscrossed crops- apple and pear trees, vines of grapes, and maize- creating bafflingly precise geometries. In the forested areas, the branches on the trees drooped lugubriously like the long sleeves of Druid priests. Jonathan pointed to the curved roads that cut through the hillsides and valleys. "Forged by Romans, Mina!" he said. "So many civilizations have come and gone on this land- Celts, Romans, Normans, Mongols, French. Who knows how many more?

When we were first together, when you first brought me here to this beautiful place, you used to say you were glad you found a napoletana, remember? You said the northerners were sane and orderly and hardworking and maybe more honest, but that without the south, Italy would have too many brains and not enough heart. It would be like Europe having only Germany and Austria - no Spain, no France, no Italy. It would be a world of scientists without singers. I thought it was romantic. What happened to the man who said those things?

So don’t cry over others, they have enough to do saving their skin or getting through the few hours left before they’re murdered. They don’t need tears Made in Austria. Besides, the tears come later, in the middle of peace, as you once called this time, in a comfortable armchair, when no shots are being fired and nothing is burning. People go hungry at other times too, on the street, among the well-fed passerby. And fear is first felt during some stupid horror film. People don’t freeze in winter, but at the beach on a summer’s day. Where was it? When did you feel the most cold? It was a beautiful, unseasonably warm October day by the sea. So you can either stay calm for the others or be constantly agitated. You won’t change a thing.

There you are,” I said, striving to paddle back to shore from the deep waters I felt I’d somehow wandered into. “Aren’t you going to waltz me? Listen, they’re starting.” He opened his eyes at that. “I know,” he said. “I can hear. God, I can hear it. How do you humans bear it?” The waltz had started slowly, and he thumped his hand against his chest in time. One-two-three, one-two-three. “Bear what?” I said softly. “The music,” he said. “A man in Austria wrote this—just a man, just a stinking, selfish, distractible human—scratched it out on tree pulp, and then it traveled across countries and through wars and arrived here, and though none of us speak his language and most don’t know his name, he speaks to us exactly as he intended to. He tells our bodies how to move to it almost without learning the steps. One-two-three, one-two-three.” A smile flitted across his lips. I was astonished to see that he had tears in his eyes. “God! How beautiful it is! And you all talk over it about what Lady-So-and-So said to the Honorable Whosit yesterday on the Steyne.

LEDERHOSEN BACK IN THE SUITCASE – THEY WEREN’T MUCH HELP – I’M READY to leave. I started my journey in the most gorgeous of architectures in Jerusalem, and I end it in the most ravished of places, in Jenin. I started with Kings, David and Herod, and I end with Haifa Refugees. When I started the journey I was awed, when I end it I’m dismayed; when I started my journey laughter was my companion, when I end it a tear joins me; when I started this journey hope was my neighbor, when I end it despair stares me in the face. Witnessing the tremendous investments and endless attempts of the Europeans, not to mention the Germans, all geared to undermine the Jews in this land, in Israel, was an extremely unsettling experience. Being showered with love by the Arabs, just because they thought I was an Aryan, a German, was very discomforting. Watching the Jews and seeing how powerless they are, even now that they have their own state, was distressing. If logic is any guide, Israel will not survive. Besieged by hate from without and from within, no land can survive for very long. Miraculously, the Jews have built one of the most sophisticated, intense, beautiful countries of our time, but what are they doing to keep it? They hate themselves, they belie themselves, they are full of fears and many of them rush to get another passport; they want to go back to Poland, to Austria, to Germany – lands where their forefathers were hunted down and killed. And what am I doing? Just the same: I am going back to Germany. Am I a Jew just like them? Am I not Tobi the German? Am I not Abu Ali? My name is, sorry, Tuvia. Goodness of God. What a joke. A joke, I fear, only the Chosen People will truly comprehend. Adios, my sweet cats. You, of all creatures of this land, have a clear and sensible direction: milk and tuna. I am thankful that we met, for you have provided me with companionship in a land I felt so alone in. I am leaving this land, and I am leaving you. You will fare better here. You are Jewish cats, stay with your kind. Enjoy this land, my stray cats, as long as it lasts. I’ll miss you terribly. Shalom.

Sisi knew that it was hopeless to live up to the fairy-tale princess with stars in her hair of the Winterhalter portrait, an image that sold everything from chocolates to liver salts in Vienna, but she found it impossible not to try. Beauty was her gift, her weapon and her power, and she dreaded its passing.

Himmler felt threatened by the ever increasing influence of Maria Orsic, and on two occasions told Adolf Hitler that she is not to be trusted because she is unstable, and she has close ties to the Jews. Himmler also mentioned the name of Princess Stephanie von Hohenlohe. Little did he know that Princess Stephanie was a close friend to Hitler who showered her with gifts.  In fact, Hitler overlooked her Jewish roots, and gave her a castle in Austria as token of his admiration for her beauty and her services to the Reich as a spy extraordinaire. On Orsic, Hitler simply said: We need her for the time being but keep an eye on her…” and he added, “I don’t trust secret societies…” Himmler, SS General Jakob Sporrenberg, and SS General Hans Kammler kept Maria Orsic in isolation, and prevented her from having access to Adolf Hitler.

Loneliness is keenest when in the company of others, when comparisons suggest that everyone else is relating to and forming bonds with one another ... To make a connection requires risking rejection. To share a story requires an audience trustworthy enough to receive it. The longer a person remains isolated, the more sensitive they become to potential threats. The longer a story goes untold, the harder it gets to tell.

his jacket turned inside out on dry land missing a bullet hole’s worth of fabric,

bouquet of jasmine

delicate white buds

Sisi indicates the blousy white blossoms, shadowed in pink: “Magnolia.

It’s like trying to keep a cork in a champagne bottle,

That is the word that everyone uses—“eccentricity”—though the tone with which the word is spoken always lines the word with an omen.

Sisi had shown signs of this melancholy strain. If she had been colicky, that would have been one thing, but the infant Sisi fussed silently—often refusing to eat, sleeping far less than her brothers and sisters did, never wanting to be held.

The wind blows the straw from her hair and the wrinkles from her dress,

recoiling as if their touch scalds his delicate skin.

The disgusting trail should serve as a lesson to his parents, but it’s the servants who will have to clean it up, so no one learns a thing from this cruel attempt at discipline.

Sisi’s ego bruises easily.

The city attempts to match the beauty of its new Empress.

Here is one more thing that Sisi is allowed to look at, but not to touch, one more thing she used to hold close that is now at arm’s length.

Sisi’s mother hugs her and tells her she’s perfect, but perfect is not what Sisi has ever wanted to be.

She tries to work out an equation in her head that explains how much each of these loves relies on the other, but she has never been taught math, so it’s a lost cause.

Sisi pouts at not even having managed to annoy him.

Sisi arrives to the family party in her new blush moire dress and a mood.

What they see, before the body slips from their grasp, are the whites of Ludwig’s eyes, his mouth stretched into a howl.

Church bells toll, reminding people to pray for Ludwig’s soul.

The moonlight made the room bright as day.

FOR EVERY PERSON ACQUAINTED WITH LUDWIG there exists a theory as to the cause of his death.

A panic blooms inside Ida.

The gardens are scented with lilac and acacia trees, and the ground is sandy and soft,

with such steady grace that Ludwig imagines a spider descending its silk.

If Ludwig’s life could be made up of only moments like this, he … would probably still find a way to be unhappy.

Another exciting but scary adventure happened in Salzburg, Austria, where we were staying at a youth hostel named Stadtalm Naturfreundehaus. It was at the top of a mountain that surrounded the city and had the most beautiful view. It had bunk beds in the rooms and only had one bathroom that everyone shared. You had to put coins in the shower for the water to come out. It only gave you like two minutes of water. I remember calling down the hill to Willie to bring more coins. Two minutes wasn’t quite long enough. The way you got to the hostel was on an elevator through the middle of the mountain. One night, we got back to the elevator about eleven-thirty P.M., after exploring the city, only to find that the elevator closed at eleven P.M. We had no idea what to do. We certainly didn’t have enough money to get another hotel room for the night, so we went back into the town and asked around to see if there was a staircase that would get you there eventually, but it was a long walk up the mountain. We didn’t have any other choice. We walked what seemed like forever. At one point, we passed a guy in a trench coat, just sitting by himself on a bench on the trail. We were totally freaked out. Well, I was, at least. We finally got to the top about two A.M. We ended up sitting outside under the stars and talking once we got there, and we thanked God for keeping us safe. It ended up being really fun and romantic, but I was scared to death walking in a foreign city up a creepy trail in the middle of the night.

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