I joined the Party definitely in 1923 after having already been in sympathy with it before.

One day I heard a speech of Hitler. In this speech he said that the German factory worker and the German labourer must make common cause with the German intellectual worker.

I could not have the honour of being a German soldier because of my imprisonment in the First World War. And in this world war the Fuehrer refuses to allow me to serve as a soldier.

I was never informed in advance about the start of the war or about foreign political developments.

I am dying innocent. The sentence is wrong. God protect Germany and make Germany great again. Long live Germany! God protect my family!

As a cabin boy on a Norwegian sailing ship I earned five kronen a week in addition to my keep.

I was elected to the Diet in the same way as at every parliamentary election.

Himmler, Bormann, and Goebbels, they were probably bad fellows.

My connection with the Reich Ministers was of a purely official nature and was very infrequent.

Although as a sailor I despised politics - for I loved my sailor's life and still love it today - conditions forced me to take up a definite attitude towards political problems.

I was member of the Diet as long as it existed, until May 1933.

Oliver reached up for my hand and led me back into the living room area. “Can we try something?” I rolled my eyes. “Do I really have a choice?”“You always have a choice, Novi, ” Oliver said.

God Made Nature, Nature Need Friends.

One thing about a skunk—once you recognize the markings, you know things are gonna stink.

Somehow, the days of summer with their glimmering enchantment of dancing ladybugs and sailing clouds had faded into grey. Maddie’s heart had somehow faded with it.

Courage is the lovely virtue-the rib of Himself that God sent down to His children.

I like to make records sound good. I'm more like a reducer than a producer. If an artist cannot produce themselves, what's the point?

If you're going to perform inception, you need imagination. You need the simplest version of the idea-the one that will grow naturally in the subject's mind. Subtle art.

So you have you price," I said with a mouthful of crumbs. "Your soul for a cookie." Fang made sure Dr. Martinez wasn't looking and then shot me the bird.

I belong wherever I want to be.

Untilled ground, however rich, will bring forth thistles and thorns; so also the mind of man.