Malta Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Malta. Here they are! All 100 of them:

Look, look, master, here comes two religious caterpillars.
Christopher Marlowe
The green-eyed angel came in less than a half hour and fell docile as a lamb into my arms. We kissed and caressed, I met no resistance when I unlaced the strings to free her dress and fill myself in the moist and hot bed nature made between her thighs. We made love outdoors—without a roof, I like most, without stove, my favorite place, assuming the weather be fair and balmy, and the earth beneath be clean. Our souls intertwined and dripping with dew, and our love for each other was seen. Our love for the world was new.
Roman Payne
We made love outdoors—without a roof, I like most, without stove, my favorite place, assuming the weather be fair and balmy, and the earth beneath be clean. Our souls intertwined and dripping with dew, and our love for each other was seen. Our love for the world was new.
Roman Payne
I count religion but a childish toy And hold there is no sin but ignorance.
Christopher Marlowe (The Jew of Malta)
You earn your future, Malta Vestrit." The bead-maker cocked her head at her. "What does tomorrow owe you?" "Tomorrow owes me?" Malta repeated in confusion. "Tomorrow owes you the sum of your yesterdays. No more than that." Amber looked out to sea again. "And no less. Sometimes folk wish tomorrow did not pay them off so completely.
Robin Hobb (The Mad Ship (Liveship Traders, #2))
Malta,” he said, and smiled. “Possibly the most annoying young female I’ve ever encountered. Yet lovely. I named a horse after her. Do you remember?
Robin Hobb (Fool's Quest (The Fitz and The Fool, #2))
BARABAS: For religion Hides many mischiefs from suspicion.
Christopher Marlowe (The Jew of Malta)
I count religion but a childish toy, And hold there is no sin but ignorance.
Christopher Marlowe (The Jew of Malta)
On the Doncella, Federico Venusta had his hand mutilated by the explosion of his own grenade. He demanded a galley slave cut it off. When the man refused, he performed the operation himself and then went to the cook’s quarters, ordered them to tie the carcass of a chicken over the bleeding stump, and returned to battle, shouting at his right hand to avenge his left.
Roger Crowley (Empires of the Sea: The Siege of Malta, the Battle of Lepanto, and the Contest for the Center of the World)
In Malta, the Wars of Religion reached their climax. If both sides believed that they saw Paradise in the bright sky above them, they had a close and very intimate knowledge of Hell.
Ernle Bradford (The Great Siege, Malta 1565: Clash of Cultures: Christian Knights Defend Western Civilization Against the Moslem Tide)
And you?” “Oh, I will go back to Century House and start again. And go back each night to my small flat and listen to my music and eat my baked beans. And you will go back to Nikki, my friend, and hold her very tight, and write your books and forget all this. Hamburg, Vienna, Malta, Tripoli, Cyprus—forget it. It’s all over.
Frederick Forsyth (The Deceiver)
The most hardened hearts find a solace in the thought that their crimes are justifiable.
Eugène Sue (The Knight of Malta)
Dictators never accepted failure. They preferred to have their mistakes forgotten, overshadowed with spectacle.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
Kaupunkilaiset ja nuoriso elävät toista aikaa, kaikki alle seitsemänkymmentävuotiaat. Sen ajan nimi on kiire. Joka on oman pään keksintö. Kärsimättömyydeksi sellaista pitäisi sanoa. Joka taas on sitä että ihmiset eivät malta kärsiä vaikka kyllä kannattaisi. Kärsimyksen jälkeen pienikin helpotus tuntuu hyvältä. Mutta kun kaikki on koko ajan helppoa, niin mikään ei oikeastaan tunnu helpolta.
Tuomas Kyrö (Mielensäpahoittaja (Mielensäpahoittaja, #1))
When, during the Second World War, the island of Malta came through three terrible years of bombardment and destruction, it was rightly awarded the George Medal for bravery: today Israel should be awarded a similar decoration for defending democracy, tolerance and Western values against a murderous onslaught that has lasted twenty times as long.
Andrew Roberts (The Modern Swastika: Fighting Today's anti-Semitism)
BARABAS: Why, I esteem the injury far less, To take the lives of miserable men Than be the causers of their misery.
Christopher Marlowe (The Jew of Malta)
Gozo remained an utterly private place, an island in petto - within the breast - and lucky the man who could find the key, turn the lock, and vanish inside.
Nicholas Monserrat
Malta has a rich and varied faunal history, including dwarf elephants and hippos, and a giant, flightless swan that stood taller than the island’s pachyderms.
Tim Flannery (Europe: A Natural History)
A hermaphrodite. There was this poster at the drugstore this morning that said they’re going to have a real live hermaphrodite this year. All the way from Malta.
Thomas Tryon (The Other)
BARABAS: Things past recovery Are hardly cur'd with exclamations. Be silent, daughter; sufferance breeds ease, And time may yield us an occasion, Which on the sudden cannot serve the turn.
Christopher Marlowe (The Jew of Malta)
His tranquil smile deepened. ‘We shall meet in Malta, Jerott. Pray for us all. God has been good tonight.’ ‘Thompson has been rather splendid too,’ said Lymond cordially. and waved a cheerful farewell.
Dorothy Dunnett (The Disorderly Knights (The Lymond Chronicles, #3))
Gabriel,’ said Jerott firmly, ‘is now at Birgu, Malta, engaged in a life-and-death struggle for the Grand Mastership of the Order of St John. He is unlikely to spend a large part of his time arranging esoteric disasters for his adversaries. He is far more likely to arrange to kill them stone dead.’ ‘All right. You go and get killed stone dead on that side of the garden, and I’ll stick to this,’ said Lymond.
Dorothy Dunnett (Pawn in Frankincense (The Lymond Chronicles, #4))
The Venetians briefed shamelessly on both sides according to the set of tested maxims: “It is better to treat all enemy rulers as friends,” one seasoned politician advised, “and all friends as potential enemies.
Roger Crowley (Empires of the Sea: The Siege of Malta, the Battle of Lepanto, and the Contest for the Center of the World)
Frank grabbed a tourist brochure stuck under the napkin dispenser. He began to read it. Piper patted Leo’s arm, like she couldn’t believe he was really here. Nico stood at the edge of the group, eyeing the passing pedestrians as if they might be enemies. Coach Hedge munched on the salt and pepper shakers. Despite the happy reunion, everybody seemed more subdued than usual—like they were picking up on Leo’s mood. Jason had never really considered how important Leo’s sense of humor was to the group. Even when things were super serious, they could always depend on Leo to lighten things up. Now, it felt like the whole team had dropped anchor. “So then Jason harnessed the venti,” Hazel finished. “And here we are.” Leo whistled. “Hot-air horses? Dang, Jason. So basically, you held a bunch of gas together all the way to Malta, and then you let it loose.” Jason frowned. “You know, it doesn’t sound so heroic when you put it that way.” “Yeah, well. I’m an expert on hot air. I’m still wondering, why Malta? I just kind of ended up here on the raft, but was that a random thing, or—” “Maybe because of this.” Frank tapped his brochure. “Says here Malta was where Calypso lived.” A pint of blood drained from Leo’s face. “W-what now?” Frank shrugged. “According to this, her original home was an island called Gozo just north of here. Calypso’s a Greek myth thingie, right?” “Ah, a Greek myth thingie!” Coach Hedge rubbed his hands together. “Maybe we get to fight her! Do we get to fight her? ’Cause I’m ready.” “No,” Leo murmured. “No, we don’t have to fight her, Coach.” Piper frowned. “Leo, what’s wrong? You look—” “Nothing’s wrong!” Leo shot to his feet. “Hey, we should get going. We’ve got work to do!” “But…where did you go?” Hazel asked. “Where did you get those clothes? How—” “Jeez, ladies!” Leo said. “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t need two extra moms!” Piper smiled uncertainly. “Okay, but—” “Ships to fix!” Leo said. “Festus to check! Earth goddesses to punch in the face! What are we waiting for? Leo’s back!” He spread his arms and grinned. He was making a brave attempt, but Jason could see the sadness lingering in his eyes. Something had happened to him…something to do with Calypso.
Rick Riordan (The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus, #4))
Infinite riches in a little room
Christopher Marlowe (The Jew of Malta)
Remembering the treatment that had been accorded the Knights and soldiers of St. Elmo, the Maltese inhabitants of Senglea took no prisoners. Hence there arose the expression (used in Malta to this day) 'St. Elmo's pay' for any action in which no mercy is given.
Ernle Bradford (The Great Siege, Malta 1565: Clash of Cultures: Christian Knights Defend Western Civilization Against the Moslem Tide)
It is easier to give in to that little brat child, isn't it? Being tough takes energy and is not always pleasant. Rules and boundaries take energy to enforce. Throwing a lollipop is much easier...It is not a trick or a quick fix, it is an overall attitude. -Malta
Vicky Kaseorg (I'm Listening With a Broken Ear)
You earn your future, Malta Vestrit.’ The bead-maker cocked her head at her. ‘What does tomorrow owe you?’ ‘Tomorrow owes me?’ Malta repeated in confusion. ‘Tomorrow owes you the sum of your yesterdays. No more than that.’ Amber looked out to sea again. ‘And no less. Sometimes folk wish tomorrow did not pay them off so completely.
Robin Hobb (The Mad Ship (Liveship Traders, #2))
I count religion but a childish toy, And hold there is no sin but ignorance.
Christopher Marlowe (The Jew of Malta)
BARABAS: A reaching thought will search his deepest wits, And cast with cunning for the time to come; For evils are apt to happen every day.
Christopher Marlowe (The Jew of Malta)
Tiedättekö mikä ero on amatöörillä ja ammattilaisella? No se, että amatööri ei malta millään lopettaa, mutta ammattilaista ei saa millään edes aloittamaan.
Tapio Rautavaara
If Franco had joined the war, the inevitable fall of Gibraltar would have doomed Malta. It would have been much harder—perhaps impossible—for the British to hold the Middle East.
Max Hastings (Inferno: The World at War, 1939-1945)
It was they who had given the island the name Maleth, ‘A Haven’, which was later corrupted by the Greeks into Melita (‘Honey’) from which the modern name of Malta derives.
Ernle Bradford (The Great Siege, Malta 1565: Clash of Cultures: Christian Knights Defend Western Civilization Against the Moslem Tide)
There were about 12,000 inhabitants in Malta, most of them poor peasants speaking a kind of Arabic dialect.
Ernle Bradford (The Great Siege, Malta 1565: Clash of Cultures: Christian Knights Defend Western Civilization Against the Moslem Tide)
To carry out war, three things are necessary,” remarked the Milanese general Marshal Trivulzio presciently in 1499, “money, money and yet more money.
Roger Crowley (Empires of the Sea: The Siege of Malta, the Battle of Lepanto, and the Contest for the Center of the World)
The Knights of Saint John held services of thanksgiving and ignited fireworks in the night sky over Malta,
Roger Crowley (Empires of the Sea: The Siege of Malta, the Battle of Lepanto, and the Contest for the Center of the World)
I sip a Malta.
Elizabeth Acevedo (The Poet X)
Truly, the girl had grown up. Althea recalled ashamedly that she had once felt that some hardship would improve Malta. Undoubtedly she had been improved, but the cost had been high.
Robin Hobb (Ship of Destiny (Liveship Traders, #3))
it had to when it was accompanying a march (political) or procession (religious) both of which were frequent in Malta; and practically every route took it through some rival territory.
Michael Pearce (A Dead Man in Malta)
Byron published the first two cantos of his epic poem Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, a romanticized account of his wanderings through Portugal, Malta, and Greece, and, as he later remarked, “awoke one morning and found myself famous.” Beautiful, seductive, troubled, brooding, and sexually adventurous, he was living the life of a Byronic hero while creating the archetype in his poetry. He became the toast of literary London and was feted at three parties each day, most memorably a lavish morning dance hosted by Lady Caroline Lamb. Lady Caroline, though married to a politically powerful aristocrat who was later prime minister, fell madly in love with Byron. He thought she was “too thin,” yet she had an unconventional sexual ambiguity (she liked to dress as a page boy) that he found enticing. They had a turbulent affair, and after it ended she stalked him obsessively. She famously declared him to be “mad, bad, and dangerous to know,” which he was. So was she.
Walter Isaacson (The Innovators: How a Group of Hackers, Geniuses, and Geeks Created the Digital Revolution)
I wore my suit and the polka-dot tie. As soon as I spotted Malta Kano, I tried to walk in her direction, but the crowd kept getting in my way. By the time I reached the bar, she was gone. The tropical drink stood there on the bar, in front of her now empty stool. I took the next seat at the bar and ordered a scotch on the rocks. The bartender asked me what kind of scotch I'd like, and I answered Cutty Sark. I really didn't care which brand of scotch he served me, but Cutty Sark was the first thing that came to mind.
Haruki Murakami (The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle)
Eventually, Malta Kano withdrew her hand from mine and took several deep breaths. Then she nodded several times. “Mr. Okada,” she said, “I believe that you are entering a phase of your life in which many different things will occur. The disappearance of your cat is only the beginning.
Haruki Murakami (The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle)
Look, Malia, I know your theory. But you can’t go round putting people’s backs up!’ ‘I certainly wouldn’t wish to do that!’ said Dr Malia. ‘Well, it annoys people, you know.’ ‘I’m sorry about that. I try not to get in the way.’ ‘Well, maybe, but – It’s just that you’re always creeping around.
Michael Pearce (A Dead Man in Malta)
What do you know of the Knights?” he asked. Fin shrugged. “I thought knights were only in children’s stories until a few days ago.” Jeannot smiled. “A man could do worse than to live in the stories of a child. There is, perhaps, no better remembrance.” “Until the child grows up and finds out the stories aren’t true. You might be knights, but I don’t see any shining armor,” Fin said. Jeannot stopped near the gate of the auberge and faced her. “Each time a story is told, the details and accuracies and facts are winnowed away until all that remains is the heart of the tale. If there is truth at the heart of it, a tale may live forever. As a knight, there is no dragon to slay, no maiden to rescue, and no miraculous grail to uncover. A knight seeks the truth beneath these things, seeks the heart. We call this the corso. The path set before us. The race we must run.
A.S. Peterson (Fiddler's Green (Fin's Revolution, #2))
She taught them all a song. Learned from a para on French leave from the fighting in Algeria: Demain le noir matin, Je fermerai la porte Au nez des années mortes; J’irai par les chemins. Je mendierai ma vie Sur la terre et sur l’onde, Du vieux au nouveau monde . . . He had been short and built like the island of Malta itself: rock, an inscrutable heart. She’d had only one night with him. Then he was off to the Piraeus. Tomorrow, the black morning, I close the door in the face of the dead years. I will go on the road, bum my way over land and sea, from the old to the new world. . . .
Thomas Pynchon (V.)
I once lived in Malta", she said. "For three years. The water there is terrible. Undrinkable. Like diluted seawater. And the bread they bake there is salty. Not because they put salt in it, but because the water they make it with is salty. The bread is not bad, though, I rather like Malta's bread".
Haruki Murakami (The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle)
The shop signs were in English. The beer was English. The post boxes were the traditional English red ones. If you had been transported here by magic carpet overnight, when you woke up in the morning you would not have known you were not in England. Except for the Malti. Which you didn’t hear. And which came
Michael Pearce (A Dead Man in Malta)
You called me Alec just now,’ Guthrie said. ‘If I have dispensation to do the same, let me say it. Francis Crawford, I wish you away from this country; and if I had the hearing of a friend, and not that of the Voevoda Bolshoia, I would tell you never to come back.’ Abandoned by artifice, Lymond’s face exposed, for an instant, his astonishment. ‘Of course you may speak,’ he said. ‘At this moment … but why? I cannot see why?’ ‘I know you cannot see why,’ said Alec Guthrie. ‘You saw it when you fought Graham Malett. You saw it in France and in Malta. You saw it clearest of all at home among your own people.’ Lymond said sharply, ‘That will do.
Dorothy Dunnett (The Ringed Castle (The Lymond Chronicles, #5))
He brought too much change, too fast, with no real understanding of what he was changing, or why it would be bad. He never consulted any of us about it. Suddenly, it was all his own will and what he thought was best. I do not keep him in ignorance, Malta. His ignorance is a fortress he has built himself and defended savagely.
Robin Hobb (Ship of Magic (Liveship Traders, #1))
Have you heard about the Knights of Malta?" I ask. "Vaguely." "They had a special technique, such that they would penetrate their partner, and then do nothing, just do nothing, for hours, just stay in place, frozen in time, as it were." "And erections, did they freeze too?" "Good question. More historical research will be needed, " I whisper.
Michael Ampersant (Green Eyes)
Hand in hand with Brenda whom he’d met yesterday, Profane ran down the street. Presently, sudden and in silence, all illumination in Valletta, houselight and streetlight, was extinguished. Profane and Brenda continued to run through the abruptly absolute night, momentum alone carrying them toward the edge of Malta, and the Mediterranean beyond
Thomas Pynchon (V.)
Apart from donkeys, mules and horses, which we continue to eat as before, we have now also eaten most of the dogs and cats as well as a good number of large rats
Bosredon Ransijat
She thinks they’re just incompetence. But, then, she thinks that most things that go wrong are just incompetence.
Michael Pearce (A Dead Man in Malta)
Their vessels,’ he had been told, ‘are not like others. They have always aboard them great numbers of arquebusiers and of knights who are dedicated to fight to the death.
Ernle Bradford (The Great Siege, Malta 1565: Clash of Cultures: Christian Knights Defend Western Civilization Against the Moslem Tide)
time was indeed the best teacher. Trouble was, eventually it killed all of its students.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
War doesn’t determine who’s right, only who’s left. And that had not been him.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
For whilst I live, here lives my soul's sole hope, And when I die, here shall my spirit walk.
Christopher Marlowe (The Jew of Malta)
War was not dependent on personal volition; it was an unceasing imperial project, authorized by Islam.
Roger Crowley (Empires of the Sea: The Siege of Malta, the Battle of Lepanto, and the Contest for the Center of the World)
Until the lions have their historians, tales of the hunt shall always glorify the hunters.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
You must keep active mentally as well as physically. I always try to do that.
Michael Pearce (A Dead Man in Malta)
It is not necessary to believe in God to be a good person. In a way, the traditional notion of God is outdated. One can be spiritual, but not religious. It is not necessary to go to church and give money. For many, nature can be a church. Some of the best people in history did not believe in God, while some of the worst deeds were done in his name. —POPE FRANCIS I
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
I am sorry for you. It is hard to see you come of age in such troubled times. I feel you are being cheated of all the things we dreamed you would do. But there is nothing I can do to change it.” “I know the feeling,” Malta said, more to herself than to her mother. “Sometimes I feel completely helpless. As if there is nothing I can do to change any of the bad things. Other times, I feel I am simply too cowardly to try.
Robin Hobb (The Mad Ship (Liveship Traders, #2))
I know that these things will never come back. I may see the rocks again, and smell the flowers, and watch the dawn sunshine chase the shadows from the old sulphuric-colored walls, but the light that sprang from the heightened consciousness of wartime, the glory seen by the enraptured ingenious eyes of twenty-two, will be upon them no more. I am a girl no longer, and the world, for all its excitements of chosen work and individualistic play, has grown tame in comparison with Malta during those years of our anguish. It is, I think, this glamour, this magic, this incomparable keying up of the spirit in a time of mortal conflict, which constitute the pacifist’s real problem — a problem still incompletely imagined, and still quite unresolved. The causes of war are always falsely represented; its honour is dishonest and its glory meretricious, but the challenge to spiritual endurance, the intense sharpening of all the senses, the vitalising consciousness of common peril for a common end, remain to allure those boys and girls who have just reached the age when love and friendship and adventure call more persistently than at any later time. The glamour may be the mere delirium of fever, which as soon as war is over dies out and shows itself for the will-o’-the-wisp that it is, but while it lasts no emotion known to man seems as yet to have quite the compelling power of this enlarged vitality.
Vera Brittain (Testament of Youth)
Excavators uncovered one of Malta's most famous Neolithic sculptures, the "Sleeping Lady" of the Hypogeum, off the main hall. She reclines peacefully on her side, head in hand...This sculpture and another one shown lying on her stomach on a couch reminds us of initiation and healing rites known in later classical times. During these various classical ceremonies, the initiate spent a night in the temple (or cave or other remote place). The initiate experienced a night of visions and dreams, with spiritual or physical healing taking place...This rite probably derived from Neolithic practices that likened sleeping in a cave, temple, or underground chamber to slumbering in the goddess' uterus before spiritual reawakening. For the living, such a ritual brought physical healing and spiritual rebirth. For the dead, burial within underground chambers, shaped and colored like the uterus, represented the possibility of regeneration through the goddess' symbolic womb.
Marija Gimbutas (The Living Goddesses)
How the devil was she fooled into firing in the first place? Don’t tell me that wasn’t your fault,’ said Lord Culter, a familiar wariness displacing the warmth of reunion. ‘All right, I won’t,’ said Lymond. ‘Jerott, did you get shot also? No. Then kindly muster the lady in your monkish arms and ride with her to the castle. Yours is the only reputation that will stand it. And don’t say I don’t endow you with princely rewards for sitting on your bloody arse doing precisely nothing.’ Which was the manner of Lymond’s homecoming from Malta.
Dorothy Dunnett (The Disorderly Knights (The Lymond Chronicles, #3))
What I want to tell you is that you have done all that you can. You have a wild young heart; right now, it is like a caged bird that batters itself against the bars. To struggle harder will only hurt you more. Wait. Be patient. Your time will come to fly. And when it does, you must be strong, not bloodied and weary.” Amber’s eyes went suddenly wider. “Beware of one who would claim your wings for her own. Beware of one who would make you doubt your own strength. Your discontent is founded in your destiny, Malta. A small life will never satisfy you.
Robin Hobb (The Mad Ship (Liveship Traders, #2))
BARABAS: As for myself, I walk abroad a-nights, And kill sick people groaning under walls. Sometimes I go about and poison wells; And now and then, to cherish Christian thieves, I am content to lose some of my crowns, That I may, walking in my gallery, See 'em go pinion'd along by my door. Being young, I studied physic, and began To practice first upon the Italian; There I enrich'd the priests with burials, And always kept the sexton's arms in ure With digging graves and ringing dead men's knells. And, after that, was I an engineer, And in the wars 'twixt France and Germany, Under pretence of helping Charles the Fifth, Slew friend and enemy with my stratagems: Then, after that, was I an usurer, And with extorting, cozening, forfeiting, And tricks belonging unto brokery, I fill'd the gaols with bankrupts in a year, And with young orphans planted hospitals; And every moon made some or other mad, And now and then one hang himself for grief, Pinning upon his breast a long great scroll How I with interest tormented him. But mark how I am blest for plaguing them: I have as much coin as will buy the town.
Christopher Marlowe (The Jew of Malta)
After we were brought safely through,  l we then learned that  m the island was called Malta. 2 n The native people [1] showed us unusual  o kindness, for they kindled a fire and welcomed us all, because it had begun to rain and was cold. 3When Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks and put them on the fire, a viper came out because of the heat and fastened on his hand. 4When  p the native people saw the creature hanging from his hand, they said to one another,  q “No doubt this man is a murderer. Though he has escaped from the sea,  r Justice [2] has not allowed
Anonymous (ESV Classic Reference Bible)
he seemed as right as rain when I saw him yesterday!” And that’s what Pete and Joe said, too. Right as rain! And then I got to thinking. “That’s how he was then,” I said. “What’s in your mind, Terry?” said Pete. “If he was fit as a fiddle one day, how come he was dead as a doornail the next?
Michael Pearce (A Dead Man in Malta)
The manner in which we have been treated by the English has exceeded all our expectations. It is regrettable that two such generous and advanced nations have to be enemies with one another. Why is it not possible for us to unite? I must say, that under the current circumstances my feelings towards this illustrious nation are very different to those I had during the blockade. I am enchanted by their open-mindedness, the sincerity, the culture of the people we are dealing with. They have given me a strong desire that someday soon we can become friends of these interesting people who deserve a better form of government.
Bosredon Ransijat
The child raised for his station, never leaving it, could not be exposed to the disadvantages of another. But given the mobility of human things, given the unsettled and restless spirit of this age which upsets everything in each generation, can one conceive of a method more senseless than raising a child as though he never had to leave his room, as though he were going to be constantly surrounded by his servants? If the unfortunate makes a single step on the earth, if he goes down a single degree, he is lost. This is not teaching him to bear suffering; it is training him to feel it. One thinks only of preserving one’s child. That is not enough. One ought to teach him to preserve himself as a man. to bear the blows of fate, to brave opulence and poverty, to live, if he has to. in freezing Iceland or on Malta’s burning rocks. You may very well take precautions against his dying. He will nevertheless have to die. And though his death were not the product of your efforts, still these efforts would be ill conceived. It is less a question of keeping him from dying than of making him live. To live is not to breathe; it is to act; it is to make use of our organs, our senses, our faculties, of all the parts of ourselves which give us the sentiment of our existence.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau (Emile, or On Education)
A direct descendant of the Nights is The Saragossa Manuscript, written by the Polish Jan Potocki between 1797 and 1815. Potocki was a Knight of Malta, a linguist and an occultist—his tales, set in Spain in 1739, are dizzily interlinked at many levels—ghouls, politics, rationalism, ghosts, necromancy, tale within tale within tale. He spent time searching vainly for a manuscript of the Nights in Morocco, and shot himself with a silver bullet made from a teapot lid in Poland. Out of such works came nineteenth-century Gothick fantasy, and the intricate, paranoid nightmare plottings of such story webs as The Crying of Lot 49 or Lawrence Norfolk’s Lemprière’s Dictionary.
Anonymous (The Arabian Nights: Tales from a Thousand and One Nights)
This effort notwithstanding, however, certain British institutions were not be trifled with: “Sent hands to tea at 3:30 with Indefatigable to go to tea after us,” Kennedy recorded in his action report. By 3:45 p.m., Goeben and Breslau were pulling away into a misty haze; at 4:00, Goeben was only just in sight against the horizon. Dublin held on, but at 7:37 p.m. the light cruiser signaled, “Goeben out of sight now, can only see smoke; still daylight.” By nine o’clock, the smoke had disappeared, daylight was gone, and Goeben and Breslau had vanished. At 9:52 p.m., on Milne’s instructions, Dublin gave up the chase. At 1:15 a.m., a signal from Malta informed the Mediterranean Fleet that war had begun.
Robert K. Massie (Castles of Steel: Britain, Germany and the Winning of the Great War at Sea)
In that century, a man adventuring by sea in the Mediterranean was likely to find the wheel of fortune turn full circle in a matter of a few hours. Dragut, greatest of all the corsairs after Barbarossa, saw La Valette when he was a galley slave and secured for him slightly more favourable conditions. Eight years later, when Dragut himself was captured by the Genoese admiral Giannettino Doria, Valette happened to be present. He sympathized with the corsair’s anger and remarked: ‘Monsieur Dragut—it is the custom of war.’ To which Dragut wryly replied, ‘And change of Fortune.’ Valette’s own captor, Kust-Aly, was in turn taken by La Valette, then chief admiral of the Order’s fleet, in 1554, and sent to the oars along with twenty-two other prisoners.
Ernle Bradford (The Great Siege, Malta 1565: Clash of Cultures: Christian Knights Defend Western Civilization Against the Moslem Tide)
I took the money from the envelope and put it in my wallet. The envelope itself I crumpled and threw in the wastebasket. So this was how secrets got started, I thought to myself. People constructed them little by little. I had not consciously intended to keep May Kasahara a secret from Kumiko. My relationship with her was not that big a deal, finally: whether I mentioned it or not was of no consequence. Once it had flowed down a certain delicate channel, however, it had become cloaked in the opacity of secretiveness, whatever my original “intention” may have been. The same thing had happened with Creta Kano. I had told Kumiko that Malta Kano’s younger sister had come to the house, that her name was Creta, that she dressed in early-sixties style, that she took samples of our tap water.
Haruki Murakami (The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle)
He had panicked. Tessier cursed his own stupidity. He should have remained in the column where he would have been protected. Instead, he saw an enemy coming for him like a revenant rising from a dark tomb, and had run first instead of thinking. Except this was no longer a French stronghold. The forts had all been captured and surrendered and the glorious revolutionary soldiers had been defeated. If the supply ships had made it through the blockade, Vaubois might still have been able to defend the city, but with no food, limited ammunition and disease rampant, defeat was inevitable. Tessier remembered the gut-wrenching escape from Fort Dominance where villagers spat at him and threw rocks. One man had brought out a pistol and the ball had slapped the air as it passed his face. Another man had chased him with an ancient boar spear and Tessier, exhausted from the fight, had jumped into the water. He had nearly drowned in that cold grey sea, only just managing to cling to a rock whilst the enemy searched the shoreline. The British warship was anchored outside the village, and although Tessier could see men on-board, no one had spotted him. Hours passed by. Then, when he considered it was clear, he swam ashore to hide in the malodorous marshland outside Mġarr. His body shivered violently and his skin was blue and wrinkled like withered fruit, but in the night-dark light he lived. He had crept to a fishing boat, donned a salt-stained boat cloak and rowed out to Malta's monochrome coastline. He had somehow managed to escape capture by abandoning the boat to swim into the harbour. From there it had been easy to climb the city walls and to safety. He had written his account of the marines ambush, the fort’s surrender and his opinion of Chasse, to Vaubois. Tessier wanted Gamble cashiered and Vaubois promised to take his complaint to the senior British officer when he was in a position to. Weeks went past. Months. A burning hunger for revenge changed to a desire for provisions. And until today, Tessier reflected that he would never see Gamble again. Sunlight twinkled on the water, dazzling like a million diamonds scattered across its surface. Tessier loaded his pistol in the shadows where the air was still and cool. He had two of them, a knife and a sword, and, although starving and crippled with stomach cramps, he would fight as he had always done so: with everything he had.
David Cook (Heart of Oak (The Soldier Chronicles, #2))
25 May, as the extent of the French defeat became apparent, Lord Halifax carefully began sounding out the Italian ambassador to find out what concessions would be needed to ‘bribe’ Italy from entering the war. Gibraltar, perhaps, or Malta? He hoped that Italy could provide the initiative for a peace conference with Hitler, leading to a ‘general European arrangement’. England was to keep the sea and its empire, while Germany could do as it pleased on the continent. Hitler would probably have agreed to such a proposal: it was roughly the same division of roles Kaiser Wilhelm II and his ministers had contemplated in 1914. As a result, the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg, France, Poland, Czechoslovakia, Denmark and Norway – the lion’s share of Europe – would have been transformed into a federation of Nazi
Geert Mak (In Europe: Travels Through the Twentieth Century)
Although our American friends, some of whose generals visited us, took a more alarmist view of our position, and the world at large regarded the invasion of Britain as probable, we ourselves felt free to send overseas all the troops our available shipping could carry and to wage offensive war in the Middle East and the Mediterranean. Here was the hinge on which our ultimate victory turned, and it was in 1941 that the first significant events began. In war armies must fight. Africa was the only continent in which we could meet our foes on land. The defence of Egypt and of Malta were duties compulsive upon us, and the destruction of the Italian Empire the first prize we could gain. The British resistance in the Middle East to the triumphant Axis Powers and our attempt to rally the Balkans and Turkey against them are the theme and thread of our story now.
Winston S. Churchill (The Grand Alliance)
The last man crossed the deck: the clinking ship’s company was dismissed, and Jack said to the signal-midshipman, ‘To Dryad: Captain repair aboard at once.’ He then turned to Rowan and said, ‘You may part company as soon as I hear from Captain Babbington whether the transports are in Cephalonia or not; then you will not lose a moment of this beautiful leading breeze. Here he is. Captain Babbington, good day to you. Are the transports in Cephalonia? Is all well?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘Mr Rowan, report to the Commander-in-Chief, with my duty, that the transports are in Cephalonia, and that all is well. You need not mention the fact that you saw one of the squadron crammed with women from head to stern; you need not report this open and I may say shameless violation of the Articles of War, for that disagreeable task falls to your superiors; nor need you make any observations about floating brothels or the relaxation of discipline in the warmer eastern waters, for these observations will naturally occur to the Commander-in-Chief without your help. Now pray go aboard our prize and proceed to Malta without the loss of a minute: not all of us can spare the time to dally with the sex.’ ‘Oh sir,’ cried Babbington, as Rowan darted over the side, ‘I really must be allowed to protest – to deny – ’ ‘You will not deny that they are women, surely? I can tell the difference between Adam and Eve as quick as the next man, even if you cannot; just as I can tell the difference between an active zealous officer and a lubber that lies in port indulging his whims. It is of no use trying to impose upon me.’ ‘No, sir. But these are all respectable women.’ ‘Then why are they leering over the side like that, and making gestures?’ ‘It is only their way, sir. They are all Lesbians – ’ ‘And no doubt they are all parsons’ daughters, your cousins in the third degree, like that wench in Ceylon.’ ‘– and Lesbians always join their hands like that, to show respect.’ ‘You are becoming an authority on the motions of Greek women, it appears.’ ‘Oh sir,’ cried Babbington, his voice growing shriller still. ‘I know you do not like women aboard – ’ ‘I believe I have had occasion to mention it to you some fifty or sixty times in the last ten years.’ ‘But if you will allow me to explain – ’ ‘It would be interesting to hear how the presence of thirty-seven, no, thirty-eight young women in one of His Majesty’s sloops can be explained; but since I like some decency to be preserved on my quarterdeck, perhaps the explanation had better take place in the cabin.’ And in the cabin he said, ‘Upon my word, William, this is coming it pretty high. Thirty-eight wenches at a time is coming it pretty high.
Patrick O'Brian (The Ionian Mission (Aubrey/Maturin, #8))
Why didn’t you just hit him over the head and take the bedsheet away from him?” Yossarian asked. Pressing his lips together with dignity, Milo shook his head. “That would have been most unjust,” he scolded firmly. “Force is wrong, and two wrongs never make a right. It was much better my way. When I held the dates out to him and reached for the bedsheet, he probably thought I was offering to trade.” “What were you doing?” “Actually, I was offering to trade, but since he doesn’t understand English, I can always deny it.” “Suppose he gets angry and wants the dates?” “Why, we’ll just hit him over the head and take them away from him,” Milo answered without hesitation. He looked from Yossarian to McWatt and back again. “I really can’t see what everyone is complaining about. We’re all much better off than before. Everybody is happy but this thief, and there’s no sense worrying about him, since he doesn’t even speak our language and deserves whatever he gets. Don’t you understand?” But Yossarian still didn’t understand either how Milo could buy eggs in Malta for seven cents apiece and sell them at a profit in Pianosa for five cents.
Joseph Heller (Catch-22)
Pocas plagas socavan tanto una sociedad como la hiperinflación, y el premio político para el que pudiese acabar con ella era enorme. Los diputados de la asamblea se habían asignado salarios a salvo de la inflación, vinculándolos al precio de 30.000 kilogramos de trigo. El Directorio abolió la Ley de Máximos, que mantenía los precios bajos en artículos como el pan, la harina, la leche o la carne, por lo que las malas cosechas de 1798 provocaron que una libra de pan alcanzase los 3 soles, por primera vez en dos años, y esto provocó acaparamiento, revueltas y una ansiedad general. Pero puede que lo peor de todo fuese que el pueblo no veía posibilidad de mejora, ya que las revisiones de la constitución debían ser ratificadas tres veces por ambas cámaras, en intervalos de tres años, y después por una asamblea especial para dar por cerrado un proceso que llevaba 9 años[19]. Esta situación no era susceptible de producirse en una legislatura tan fluctuante e inestable como la de finales de 1799, que incluía a realistas camuflados, Feuillants constitucionalistas –moderados–, antiguos girondinos, neojacobinos «patrióticos» y valiosos, pero escasos, partidarios del Directorio. En contraste, las constituciones que había impuesto Napoleón recientemente en las repúblicas Cisalpina, Veneciana, Ligur, Lemánica, Helvética y Romana, junto con sus reformas administrativas en Malta y Egipto, le mostraban como un republicano celoso y eficiente, que confiaba en el fuerte control ejecutivo y central, soluciones ambas que podrían dar buen resultado en la Francia metropolitana.
Andrew Roberts (Napoleón: una vida)
The defenders retreated, but in good order. A musket flamed and a ball shattered a marine’s collar bone, spinning him around. The soldiers screamed terrible battle-cries as they began their grim job of clearing the defenders off the parapet with quick professional close-quarter work. Gamble trod on a fallen ramrod and his boots crunched on burnt wadding. The French reached steps and began descending into the bastion. 'Bayonets!' Powell bellowed. 'I want bayonets!' 'Charge the bastards!' Gamble screamed, blinking another man's blood from his eyes. There was no drum to beat the order, but the marines and seamen surged forward. 'Tirez!' The French had been waiting, and their muskets jerked a handful of attackers backwards. Their officer, dressed in a patched brown coat, was horrified to see the savage looking men advance unperturbed by the musketry. His men were mostly conscripts and they had fired too high. Now they had only steel bayonets with which to defend themselves. 'Get in close, boys!' Powell ordered. 'A Shawnee Indian named Blue Jacket once told me that a naked woman stirs a man's blood, but a naked blade stirs his soul. So go in with the steel. Lunge! Recover! Stance!' 'Charge!' Gamble turned the order into a long, guttural yell of defiance. Those redcoats and seamen, with loaded weapons discharged them at the press of the defenders, and a man in the front rank went down with a dark hole in his forehead. Gamble saw the officer aim a pistol at him. A wounded Frenchman, half-crawling, tried to stab with his sabre-briquet, but Gamble kicked him in the head. He dashed forward, sword held low. The officer pulled the trigger, the weapon tugged the man's arm to his right, and the ball buzzed past Gamble's mangled ear as he jumped down into the gap made by the marines charge. A French corporal wearing a straw hat drove his bayonet at Gamble's belly, but he dodged to one side and rammed his bar-hilt into the man's dark eyes. 'Lunge! Recover! Stance!
David Cook (Heart of Oak (The Soldier Chronicles, #2))
Variante. Tu sei un autore, non sai ancora quanto grande, colei che amavi ti ha tradito, la vita per te non ha più senso e un giorno, per dimenticare, fai un viaggio sul Titanic e naufraghi nei mari del sud, ti raccoglie (unico superstite) una piroga di indigeni e passi lunghi anni ignorato da tutti, su di un'isola abitata solo da papuasi, con le ragazze che ti cantano canzoni di intenso languore, agitando i seni appena coperti dalla collana di fiori di pua. Cominci ad abituarti, ti chiamano Jim, come fanno coi bianchi, una ragazza dalla pelle ambrata ti si introduce una sera nella capanna e ti dice: "Io tua, io con te." In fondo è bello, la sera, stare sdraiato sulla veranda a guardare la Croce del Sud mentre lei ti accarezza la fronte. Vivi secondo il ciclo delle albe e dei tramonti, e non sai d'altro. Un giorno arriva una barca a motore con degli olandesi, apprendi che sono passati dieci anni, potresti andare via con loro, ma esiti, preferisci scambiare noci di cocco con derrate, prometti che potresti occuparti della raccolta della canapa, gli indigeni lavorano per te, tu cominci a navigare da isolotto a isolotto, sei diventato per tutti Jim della Canapa. Un avventuriero portoghese rovinato dall'alcool viene a lavorare con te e si redime, tutti parlano ormai di te in quei mari della Sonda, dai consigli al marajà di Brunei per una campagna contro i dajaki del fiume, riesci a riattivare un vecchio cannone dei tempi di Tippo Sahib, caricato a chiodaglia, alleni una squadra di malesi devoti, coi denti anneriti dal betel in uno scontro presso la Barriera Corallina il vecchio Sampan, i denti anneriti dal betel, ti fa scudo col proprio corpo - Sono contento di morire per te, Jim della Canapa. - Vecchio, vecchio Sampan, amico mio. Ormai sei famoso in tutto l'arcipelago tra Sumatra e Port-au-Prince, tratti con gli inglesi, alla capitaneria del di Darwin sei registrato come Kurtz, e ormai sei Kurtz per tutti - Jim della Canapa per gli indigeni. Ma una sera, mentre la ragazza ti accarezza sulla veranda e la Croce del Sud sfavilla come non mai, ahi quanto, diversa dall'Orsa, tu capisci: vorresti tornare. Solo per poco, per vedere che cosa sia rimasto di te, laggiù. Prendi la barca a motore, raggiungi Manila, di là un aereo a elica ti porta a Bali. Poi Samoa, Isole dell'Ammiragliato, Singapore, Tananarive, Timbuctu, Aleppo, Samarcanda, Bassora, Malta e sei a casa. Sono passati diciott'anni, la vita ti ha segnato, il viso è abbronzato dagli alisei, sei più vecchio, forse più bello. Ed ecco che appena arrivato scopri che le librerie ostentano tutti i tuoi libri, in riedizioni critiche, c'è il tuo nome sul frontone della vecchia scuola dove hai imparato a leggere e a scrivere. Sei il Grande Poeta Scomparso, la coscienza della generazione. Fanciulle romantiche si uccidono sulla tua tomba vuota. E poi incontro te, amore, con tante rughe intorno agli occhi, e il volto ancora bello che si strugge di ricordo, e tenero rimorso. Quasi ti ho sfiorata sul marciapiede, sono là a due passi, e tu mi hai guardato come guardi tutti, cercando un altro oltre la loro ombra. Potrei parlare, cancellare il tempo. Ma a che scopo? Non ho già avuto quello che volevo? Io sono Dio, la stessa solitudine, la stessa vanagloria, la stessa disperazione per non essere una delle mie creature come tutti. Tutti che vivono nella mia luce e io che vivo nello scintillio insopportabile della mia tenebra.
Umberto Eco (Foucault’s Pendulum)
Besides, you and I both know that more people learn history, or what looks like it, from novels rather than textbooks. I mean, look at Catholic Paranoid novels—I’ve never seen so many people believe so much crap: the Knights of Malta, Knights Templar, the Church suppressing the truth about … well, everything that happened before the Enlightenment—as if we were ever that organized.
Declan Finn (A Pius Legacy: A Political Thriller (The Pius Trilogy Book 2))
Some are errors. There’s Malta 20a, for example, the 2-1/2p dull blue; it’s supposed to be surcharged “One Penny,” but this variety has it “One Pnney.” It’s affordable, and visually remarkable, and I picked up my copy when it was offered in a block of four, with three non-erroneous companions.
Lawrence Block (Generally Speaking)
The crazed Argentine was far more concerned with people worshiping him than protecting the faith.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
Like he always said, if flying was so safe, why’d they call the airport a terminal?
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
Even assuming he knew the sappers were Muslim, Mustapha was not going to spare any lives so long as victory was on the line. Besides, Muslims killed in this manner would go straight to paradise. The benefits were most likely lost on the slaves themselves, some of whom, to avoid the assignment, chose to cut off their own ears.
Bruce Ware Allen (The Great Siege of Malta: The Epic Battle between the Ottoman Empire and the Knights of St. John)
Colonna was best known for having killed his mother-in-law two weeks after having married her fourteen-year-old daughter.
Bruce Ware Allen (The Great Siege of Malta: The Epic Battle between the Ottoman Empire and the Knights of St. John)
Although the stories of the Cailleach are essentially British, her origins are not. Exploring the earliest literary references to the Cailleach takes us to the classics of ancient Greece and Rome. References in writings by Herodotus, Strabo and Pliny suggest her worship as a Celtic tutelary goddess on the Iberian peninsula of Spain two and a half thousand years ago. Moving beyond literature and focusing on the similarities in motifs, such as her giant size and stone-carrying, leads us to Neolithic Malta. There are distinct similarities between the Cailleach and the Maltese giantess Sansuna, credited by legend with building the Ggantija temples on the island of Gozo. These impressive buildings are the oldest religious structures in the world, predating monuments like the Pyramids and Stonehenge.
Sorita d'Este (Visions of the Cailleach: Exploring the Myths, Folklore and Legends of the pre-eminent Celtic Hag Goddess)
Salih Paşa Hükümeti döneminde 16 Mart 1920'de İstanbul resmen işgal edilmiş, Meclis-i Mebusan dağıtılmış, bazı milletvekilleri tutuklanarak Malta'ya sürgün edilmiştir. Salih Paşa Hükümeti, bir yazıyla işgali protesto etmiştir. Yazıda, işgali gerektirecek bir durum olmadığı, Anadolu'daki olayların Aydın ilinin haksız yere Yunanlılarca işgal edilmesinden, Yunanlıların ve yerli Rumların Müslümanlara zulüm yapmasından, büyük bir Ermenistan'la Karadeniz'de bağımsız bir Rum devletinin kurulmak istenmesinden ileri geldiğini belirtmiştir. Sayfa:173
Sinan Meydan (Cumhuriyet Tarihi Yalanları (Yoksa Siz de mi Kandırıldınız?))
with more bombs being dropped on Malta in two months of 1942 than were dropped on London in a year. It was a time of fear and fatigue and disease, and jubilation when a convoy, bringing its precious cargo of food and ammunition and fuel, did get through. Now there was nothing here apart from the huts to serve as a reminder of those days. The aircraft pens had gone and the runway, which had been like the long handle of a warming pan, had become a road leading to the National Stadium. For me, searching into the past, there was nothing: this is not the Ta’ Qali that Peter Anderson would have seen. But not everything had changed so drastically. Mdina, the old capital of Malta, would be much as he had seen it, and the barracks where he and Tom had lived were still standing, so the young man at Ta’ Qali had said. There were some things I could see, some places I could visit. My spirits rose. I turned the car around and headed back, past the cemetery, to the roundabout; a signpost pointed to Mtarfa. The road was bumpy and full of potholes; it didn’t look as if it was much used nowadays. It wound up and up, between rubble walls which divided the road from the fields on either side. Over the tops of the walls and through gateways and gaps I could see maize growing, and prickly pears, and huge pumpkins drying on the flat
Mary Rensten (Letters from Malta: A secret kept for 50 years)
Rash thinking always resulted in unsatisfying results.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
blame it all on the devil. Another New Testament creation. A fictitious nemesis upon which all bad things can be laid.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
A womb-to-grave influence over every aspect of a person’s life, each milestone dependent solely on adherence to church doctrine.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
didn’t need to wallow with the pigs to know it stunk in the pen.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
To keep people dependent on the church for their entire lifetime, create more sacraments.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
forgiveness, of course, coming only from one source. The church.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
It’s a palindrome. Sator. Arepo. Tenet. Opera. Rotas.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))
War doesn’t determine who’s right, only who’s left.
Steve Berry (The Malta Exchange (Cotton Malone #14))