Bern Williams Quotes

There was never a night or a problem that could defeat sunrise or hope.

It is almost impossible to watch a sunset and not dream.

I thought I'd go home and reread Sue Grafton. It's been a while since I last read the one about the topless dancer who gets poison injected into one of her implants." "'D' Is For Cup." "Right. Bern, you know what I wish? I wish she didn't have to stop at twenty-six. When the alphabet's used up, what happens to Kinsey?" "Are you kidding? She goes straight into doublé letters. 'AA' Is For drunks, 'BB' Is For Gun, 'CC' Is For Rider. There was a whole list in Publishers Weekly a few months back. 'PP' Is For Golden Showers, 'ZZ' Is For Topp- I can't remember them all, but it looks as though she can go on forever." "Bern, that's wonderful news." "You'll be reading about Kinsey fifty years from now," I told her. "'AAA' Is for Motorists, 'MMM' Is for Scotch Tape. You'll never have to stop.

Unsolicited advice is the junk mail of life.

NOTHING IS STRONGER THAN THE RESILIENCE OF THE HUMAN SPIRIT. (found in an ad at Goodreads, but similar to the following quote by Bern Williams) : Man never made any material as resilient as the human spirit.

How are you doing, Bern?” she asked on a private link. “Living the Viking dream. Pillaging, plundering, and flirting.” “Flirting?” “I would if I could. So few willing maidens hang out in the sewers.” Skadi

Yes. He worked for the British consulate in Bern. He offered to marry me and support the children, have me evacuated to England. The practicalities of life were solved, which was a relief. Once you have children, the practicalities are all that really count. Especially in wartime. But I still didn’t know what had happened to Jurgis. He’d simply vanished. When the war ended, I thought he’d turn up. Like magic. He was like that. I imagined he would simply walk through the door one afternoon and set down his pack and call my name and carry me to bed. I asked Nathaniel to help me—he was in Germany, you remember, with the occupation force in Berlin. He was wonderful. Combed all the prisoner of war lists and put out the word at the displaced person camps, everything he could think of. Dear boy. But we never heard a word. Not a clue. Disappeared. Like so many. Into thin air. Or the mud of some battlefield, more likely.

There is room for both; why should they fall out?  Polanus (in his Syntag. de Terræmotu) tells us of a town in the territory of Berne in Switzerland, consis ting of ninety houses, that was in the year 1584 destroyed by an earthquake, except the half of one house, where the master of the family was earnestly praying with his wife and children upon their bended knees to God.

Talent is a flame. Genius is a fire.