Hereford Quotes

The Kingdom of Hereford was unique in the Ununited Kingdoms for having driving tests based on maturity, not age, much to the chagrin of a lot of males, some of whom were still failing to make the grade at thirty-two.

Can't you see me as king of the Hereford ranchers, Lucy?" "Oh, I can see you, all right... I can see you riding out on your beautiful palomino checking the herd... There you sit, silhouetted against the evening sky... Sucking your thumb and holding that stupid blanket!

Four Herefords stood nearby, unmoving in the snow, finding the humans unworrying. Limited imaginations. Diondra

This is the body's nurse; but since man's wit Found the art of cookery, to delight his sense, More bodies are consumed and kill'd with it Than with the sword, famine, or pestilence.

When York’s son, hitherto Earl of March, learned that his father’s cause had devolved upon him he did not shrink. He fell upon the Earl of Wiltshire and the Welsh Lancastrians, and on February 2, 1461, at the Battle of Mortimer’s Cross, near Hereford, he beat and broke

I was driving, which might have been unusual anywhere but here in the Kingdom of Hereford, which was unique in the Ununited Kingdoms for having driving tests based on maturity, not age. That explained why I’d had a license since I was thirteen, while some were still failing to make the grade at forty.

It was August; the city was empty. Malcolm was in Sweden on holiday with Sophie; Richard was in Capri; Rhodes was in Maine; Andy was on Shelter Island (“Remember,” he’d said before he left, as he always said before a long vacation, “I’m just two hours away; you need me, and I catch the next ferry back”). He couldn’t bear to be around Harold, whom he couldn’t see without being reminded of his debasement; he called and told him he had too much work to go to Truro. Instead he spontaneously bought a ticket to Paris and spent the long, lonely Labor Day weekend there, wandering the streets by himself. He didn’t contact anyone he knew there—not Citizen, who was working for a French bank, or Isidore, his upstairs neighbor from Hereford Street, who was teaching there, or Phaedra, who had taken a job as the director of a satellite of a New York gallery—they wouldn’t have been in the city anyway

Do you have an obscure fact regarding cartography that would catch the attention of a man whose only other interest is the sweet pea? I PRESUME THAT WAS A SERIOUS QUESTION? It was. THE HEREFORD MAPPA MUNDI IS ORIENTED TO THE EAST. PERHAPS A COMMENT ON THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS? IF HE IS AN ENTHUSIAST, ANY USE OF THE WORD MAPPA MUNDI SHOULD WORK IN YOUR FAVOUR. Then he sent another: FAR BE IT FROM ME TO PRY INTO YOUR PERSONAL BUSINESS, BUT ARE YOU CERTAIN THIS IS A MAN YOU WISH TO IMPRESS? I laughed. He is moneyed, with a good deal in the funds, three country estates, and would spend his life consumed by cartography and the sweet pea, thus proclaimed an eligible candidate. Alas, not for me, but my cousin, a reality I fully accept. USE THE WORD THEORY IF YOU CAN. MEN WHO THINK THEY KNOW A GREAT DEAL FIND SATISFACTION FROM THE WORD. THE VERY LITTLE I KNOW ABOUT YOUR LIFE EXHAUSTS ME.

have anything to gain by it. That leaves the Caswell family. Good, solid, local stock who happen to employ a substantial proportion of Hereford’s adult male population. And three of them were poisoned, not just the deceased. It is unbelievable that they poisoned

I will never forget the day I finally passed SAS selection. At the end of the long, grueling process of elimination, where 140 recruits had steadily been whittled down to only four of us, I finally found myself preparing to get ‘badged.’ Yet it was the most low-key event you could ever imagine. No fanfare, no bugler, no parade. Just the four of us that remained, standing in a small, nondescript outbuilding on the edge of the Hereford training camp; we were battered, exhausted, bruised and spent, yet our hearts were bursting with pride. The commanding officer of the regiment walked in, stood in front of us and said these words - I have never forgotten them: From this day on, you are part of a family. I know what you have had to give to earn the right to be here. The difference between the four of you and the rest of those who have failed is very simple: it is the ability to give that little bit extra when it hurts. You see, the difference between ordinary and extraordinary is often just that little word extra.’ He then added: ‘The work I am going to ask you to do now will continue to be arduous, even more so, in fact, but what makes our work here special is your ability to give that little bit extra when most simply give up. ‘You gave more when others gave up. That’s the difference.’ That short speech made a huge impact on me, and I never forgot it. The words were simple, yet for a young soldier, and one without a huge amount of confidence, they gave me something to hold on to. And I have done that ever since, through so many hard times in jungles, deserts, mountains and life. That little bit extra. Reaching our summits only requires us to hold on that little bit longer than most people are prepared to endure. Just that little bit extra, just that nose-length more.

I asked Simon if he’d ever feared that all our struggles, all our suffering might be in vain. Not a priest’s question, and he shamed me by his answer, by the shining certainty of his faith. He said no, my lady, and then he told me of a cave he’d found whilst in the Holy Land. It was said to have magical powers; a man could shout and long after it had died away, it echoed back as if from the very bowels of the earth. Simon had so marveled at it that he’d never forgotten it. And that night in Hereford Castle, he said that whilst it might seem as if we were but shouting into the wind, our echoes, too, would come back in time, echoes to hearten the godly and haunt kings. He laughed then, but he believed it, my lady, and I found I believed, too.

Talk of Vanessa reminded Michael of the terrible 1963 accident. Vanessa and Jason (in the backseat) had escaped harm. “We were saved by the Health Service,” Michael believed. Taken to the Hereford hospital, Michael regained consciousness and gave the staff there the name of their doctor and friend, Jerry Slattery, “a great supporter of the Health Service.” Slattery knew how to work the system and called on specialist consultants. When Michael awoke the first morning after the accident, he heard the words of his favourite childhood hymn, “Look away across the sea where mountains are prepared for me.” For a moment Michael thought he had arrived in the hereafter, but it was the Salvation Army playing the hymn outside the hospital.

Now that the sit-in organizers had "the ball rolling," they had another trick up their sleeves. "As you know, black people like to dress," Richard Hall said. "So at Easter everybody would go out and buy an outfit generally, if they could afford it." In fact, according to Dr. Hereford, the Easter clothing splurge was the largest purchase most black Huntsvillians made all year (the second largest being for Christmas toys). On a visit to Nashville in the middle of the Huntsville protests, Hereford learned about a protest called "Blue Jean Easter" where African Americans, "instead of buying $100 suits and $100 dresses, they decided to spend five dollars on a pair of blue jeans for Easter, and I brought the idea back to Huntsville...The economic toll downtown was enormous. "There were twenty thousand black people in Madison County," Hereford said, "and ten thousand in the city, and if there are even ten thousand black people failing to buy $90 or $100 Easter outfits, that's a lot of money and losses for the merchants downtown. It could cost them a million dollars or more." As an extra, aded dig at the storeowners, Hereford said, people did not even buy their blue jeans in Huntsville...

Newbury Street was the tony promenade listed in every Boston guidebook, beginning downtown at the Public Garden and riding out in orderly alphabetical blocks, Arlington to Berkeley to Clarendon, all the way to Hereford before skipping impatiently to M, the broad Massachusetts Avenue that formed the unofficial western border of the Back Bay. Newbury Street continued beyond that dividing line, but with its spirit broken, forced to run alongside the ugly turnpike more or less as a back alley for Commonwealth Avenue, its humiliation ending at the suicide bridge.

Los sueños nunca son como uno los imagina; la realidad se ocupa de abofetearte la conciencia.

A veces, en la vida, era necesario arriesgar y dejarse llevar por el corazón en lugar de por el sentido común, aunque ambos te condujeran por caminos inciertos.

Hay hombres que no piensan más que en la guerra. Quizá porque nunca han estado en ninguna.

If they had not died on April 15, 1912, almost all the musicians would have had to fight in France and perhaps half of them wouldn’t have returned. When Roger Bricoux didn’t respond to the French call-up in 1914, he was registered as a deserter even though he had been dead for two years. At the age of thirty-six, Frederick Nixon Black of C. W. & F. N. Black found himself in the British army, first with the Royal Defence Corps in Hereford, and then after the war, with the Manchester Regiment handling German prisoners. Theo Brailey, had he lived, would have been called back to the Lancashire Fusiliers.

The museum can be found by taking the A49 from Hereford in the direction of Ross on Wye. The turning to Wormelow is alongside the Pilgrim Hotel at Much Birch, and Cartref is the first house on the left. Appendix VI . . . and finally. . .