No, for I do not know where I should put it

[Thomas] Blount’s execution resulted in the one of the greatest displays of wit in the face of adversity ever recorded. As he was sitting down watching his extracted entrails being burned in front of him, he was asked if he would like a drink. ‘No, for I do not know where I should put it’, he replied.

I. Mortimer, The fears of Henry IV (2007), 209

Historians have argued for many years over whether Richard went mad in 1397

Historians have argued for many years over whether Richard went mad in 1397. In the mid-twentieth century it was thought that he had indeed lost his mind, and the death of Queen Anne was identified as one of the catalyst. But really this is a modern myth.

I. Mortimer, The fears of Henry IV (2007), 136

No one, not even the king, was so well connected as Henry

Twelve of the most prominent young men of the realm were to be knighted in a special service. … If ever there was an event which demonstrated Henry’s position at the heart of English aristocracy, it was this ceremony. Imagine the oak doors to the chapel closing behind them, and each of the twelve youths casting sideways glances at each other as they stood ready to be knighted. No one, not even the king, was so well connected as Henry. He was related to all but one of them.

I. Mortimer, The fears of Henry IV (2007), 33

Henry and Richard were born rivals

Henry and Richard were born rivals. For a start, they were almost exactly the same age. Richard was born at Bordeaux, in Gascony, on 6 January 1367; Henry was born at Bolingbroke, in Lincolnshire, just three months later. Although they would not have met until they were five or six, they were regarded as a pair, on account of them both being the king’s grandchildren and the same age. Moreover, they were the only two royal children of this age; the next eldest, Roger Mortimer, was seven years younger. … they were the heirs of the two most important dynasties in England. More than a hundred years earlier, King Henry III had two sons The elder had been crowned Edward I. The younger, Edmund, has been endowed with a massive inheritance in the north of England, centred on Lancaster which gave rise to his title of earl of Lancaster.

I. Mortimer, The fears of Henry IV (2007), 19

I don't dream ... and not for "free" anyway

I once put together a book called The Tiger Garden: A Book of Writer's Dreams. Every day I sat at my desk typing up other people's dreams. Because it was a charity project intended to benefit Amnesty International, I was unable to offer payment to contributors. 'I don't dream,' wrote actor and writer Dirk Bogarde in response to my request, 'and not for "free" anyway.' The book was dismissed by critic Harry Ritchie as 'uniquely pointless and stupid', so he's not going to enjoy the current book, which will feature some of my dreams about books, writers, bookshops and critics, including at least one in which Harry Ritchie appears. 

N. Royle, White spines: confessions of a book collector (2020), 15

A deep, pathological loathing, for that word - 'reread'

The writer Conrad Williams, has a dislike, if not a deep, pathological loathing, for that word - 'reread'. I know what he means. At least, I think I do. You know the sort of the thing 'I'm rereading Proust.' 'I was rereading Hamlet the other day' 'This summer, when we go to Tuscany, I am looking forward to rereading Nakokov's stories.' That sort of thing. They want you to know they've read Proust or Hamlet or Nakokov's stories before. In fact they're terrified lest you think they're so ignorant and poorly read that they're only just getting round to reading Proust or Hamlet or Nakokov's stories.

N. Royle, White spines: confessions of a book collector (2020),13 

The English usually boil their vegetables to a submissive, sticky pulp

There is a great difference in the ordinary preparation of vegetables by the English and by us. The English usually boil their vegetables to a submissive, sticky pulp, in which the shape and, as some say, the flavor have long since been overcome. Our cooks do not cook their veg­etables nearly so long, are apt to like them crisp. The English do not use nearly as many onions as we do and they use practically no garlic at all. The little gardens are a kind of symbol of revolt against foreign methods.

J. Steinbeck [15 July 1943], Once there was a war (1959), 70

And it would be amusing if, after all the fuss and heiling, all the marching and indoctrination, the only contribution to the world by the Nazis was “Lilli Marlene.”

This is the story of a song. Its name is “Lilli Marlene” and it was written in Germany in 1938 by Norbert Schultze and Hans Leit. In due course they tried to publish it and it was rejected by about two dozen publishers. Finally it was taken up by a singer, Lala Anderson, a Swedish girl, who used it for her signature song. Lala Anderson has a husky voice and is what you might call the Hildegarde type.

...

Eventually Lala made a record of the song and even it was not very popular. But one night the German station in Belgrade, which sent out programs to Rommel’s Afrika Korps, found that, due to a little bombing, it did not have many records left, but among a few uninjured disks was the song “Lilli Marlene.” It was put on the air to Africa and by the next morning it was being hummed by the Afrika Korps and letters were going in demanding that it be played again.

The story of its popularity in Africa got back to Berlin, and Madame Goering, who used to be an opera singer, sang the song of the inconstant “Lilli Marlene” to a very select group of Nazis, if there is such a thing. Instantly the song was popular and it was played constantly over the German radio until Goering himself grew a little sick of it, and it is said that, since inconstancy is a subject which is not pleasant to certain high Nazi ears, it was suggested that the song be quietly assassinated. But mean­while “Lilli Marlene” had got out of hand. Lala Ander­son was by now known as the “Soldiers’ Sweetheart.” She was a pin-up girl. Her husky voice ground out of portable phonographs in the desert.

So far, “Lilli” had been solely a German problem, but now the British Eighth Army began to take prisoners and among the spoils they got “Lilli Marlene.” And the song swept through the Eighth Army. Australians hummed it and fastened new words to it. The powers hesitated, con­sidering whether it was a good idea to let a German song about a girl who did not have all the sterling virtues be­come the favorite song of the British Army, for by now the thing had crept into the First Army and the Americans were beginning to experiment with close harmony and were putting an off-beat into it. It wouldn’t have done the powers a bit of good if they had decided against the song.

It was out of hand. The Eighth Army was doing all right in the field and it was decided to consider “Lilli Marlene” a prisoner of war, which would have happened anyway, no matter what the powers thought about it. Now “Lilli” is getting deeply into the American Forces in Africa. The Office of War Information took up the problem and decided to keep the melody, but to turn new words against the Germans. Whether this will work or not remains to be seen. “Lilli Marlene” is international. It is to be suspected that she will emerge beside the barrack walls—young and fair and incorruptly inconsistent.

There is nothing you can do about a song like this ex­cept to let it go. War songs need not be about the war at all. Indeed, they rarely are. In the last war, “Madelon” and “Tipperary” had nothing to do with war. The great Australian song of this war, “Waltzing Matilda,” con­cerns itself with sheep-stealing. It is to be expected that some groups in America will attack “Lilli,” first, on the ground that she is an enemy alien, and, second, because she is no better than she should be. Such attacks will have little effect. “Lilli” is immortal. Her simple desire to meet a brigadier is hardly a German copyright. Politics may be dominated and nationalized, but songs have a way of leaping boundaries.

And it would be amusing if, after all the fuss and heiling, all the marching and indoctrination, the only contribution to the world by the Nazis was “Lilli Marlene.”

J. Steinbeck [12 July 1943], Once there was a war (1959), 61-3

When Army Supply ordered X millions of rubber contraceptive and disease-preventing items, it had to be explained that they were used to keep moisture out of machine-gun barrels

A third sternly held rule was that five million perfectly normal, young, energetic, and concupiscent men and boys had for the period of the War Effort put aside their habitual preoccupation with girls. The fact that they carried pictures of nude girls called pin-ups, did not occur to anyone as a paradox. The convention was the law. When Army Supply ordered X millions of rubber contraceptive and disease-preventing items, it had to be explained that they were used to keep moisture out of machine-gun barrels - and perhaps they did.   

J. Steinbeck, Once there was a war (1959), 10

Defence of private enterprise, private ownership and order are the only enduring Tory positions

The tory party have often been seen as a party of consistent ideology and as defenders of core principles and interests. I am never convinced by this argument. What is remarkable about the Conservatives is not their ideological or interest tenacity, but their willingness to jettison positions which no longer appeal: laissez-faire, the House of Lords, the Union with all Ireland, the empire, have all been abandoned when it suited the party, as to some extent have been the monarchy, the Church of England and the agricultural interest. Defence of private enterprise, private ownership and order are the only enduring Tory positions.

A. Seldon (ed.), How Tory governments fall (1996), 18 

In 1974, people using subways and railroads in and around New York were still riding on tracks laid between 1904 and 1933

During the following decade —1955-1965 — federal and state governments spent on new highways in the metropolitan area — the new highways recommended in the Joint Program — about $1,200,000,000. They spent not a cent on mass transportation. ... During this decade [following], 439 miles of new highways were built - and not one mile of new railroad or subway. In 1974, people using subways and railroads in and around New York were still riding on tracks laid between 1904 and 1933, the last year before Robert Moses came to power in the city. Not a single mile had been built since.

R. Caro, The power broker (1974), 930

There were suddenly, with the exception of a tiny fort converted into an aquarium, no buildings at all

In the upper part of Manhattan the masses of concrete were mostly sixty feet high, or seventy; in the centre of the island, they were a hundred and fifty or two hundred. But as the island narrowed towards its southern tip, they were four hundred feet high, five hundred, cramming closer and closer together, bulking up higher and higher as they loomed southward pressing inexorably toward the island's tip - until at the very tip, at the very end of the most crowded island in the world, at the very spot in the entire world in which buildings should have been crowded most closely together, there were suddenly, with the exception of a tiny fort converted into an aquarium, no buildings at all. At a point at which a single square foot of land was worth thousands of dollars, at which the value of an acre was computed not in millions of dollars, but in the tens of millions, there sat 967,032 square metres of land - 22.2 acres - vacant except for grass and trees, pathways between them, benches, and a broad, breezy waterfront promenade.

R. Caro, The power broker (1974), 647-8

You bring in a beautiful picture ... and you can see his eyes light up

It never ceases to amaze me how you can talk and talk and talk to some guy about something you've got in mind, and he isn't very impressed, and then you bring in a beautiful picture of it or, better yet, a scale model with the bridge all in white and the water nice and blue, see, and you can see his eyes light up. 

Jack Madigan, cited in R. Caro, The power broker (1974), 623

But all the highways and parks and bridges he had built were little more than nothing next to the highways and parks and bridges that Robert Moses wanted to build

Robert Moses had built public works on a scale unmatched by any other individual in the history of America. But all the highways and parks and bridges he had built were little more than nothing next to the highways and parks and bridges that Robert Moses wanted to build. ... After a decade and a half of building public works, the public works he has not yet built loomed before him larger than ever. 

R. Caro, The power broker (1974), 619

Planners in general, he said, are "socialists," "revolutionaries" who "do not reach the masses directly but through familiar subsurface activity"

Moses applied these labels generously, branding them not only onto labor leaders ("radical, left-wing") and New Deal Brain Trusters (Rexford Tugwell he assailed as a "Planning Red") and urban planners who dared to offer suggestions for the future of New York City ("regarded in Russia as our greatest builder," was how he characterised Frank Lloyd Wright; he called Lewis Mumford "an outspoken revolutionary"; Walter Gropius, he said, was seeking to change the American system by advocating "a philosophy which doesn't belong here"; planners in general, he said, are "socialists," "revolutionaries" who "do not reach the masses directly but through familiar subsurface activity ....) but onto youthful city officials who dared to stand up to him and who had, his bloodhounds discovered once allowed enthusiasm and naïveté to lead them into membership in some organization that they later learned was a Communist front.

R. Caro, The power broker (1974), 471

230,000 dead rats were counted in a single week at the zoo site alone

In Central Park, Moses' men restored Olmstead's long-defaced buildings, replanted the Shakespeare garden, placing next to every flower a quotation from the Bard in which it was mentioned, and exterminated herds of rats; 230,000 dead ones were counted in a single week at the zoo site alone. 

R. Caro, The power broker (1974), 374

Here we were on an absolutely deserted sand bar - there was no was even to get there but by boat - ... talking about bathhouses like palaces and parking lots that held ten thousand cars

One of the famous architects standing around Moses said, "Are you crazy?" The others knew what they architect meant. As one was later to put is: "It was the scale of the thing - nothing on a scale like this had ever been done in public recreation in America. Here we were on an absolutely deserted sand bar - there was no was even to get there but by boat - and here was this guy drawing X's on the back of an envelope and talking about bathhouses like palaces and parking lots that held ten thousand cars. Why, I don't think there was a parking lot of ten thousand cards anywhere in America. And landscaping? Landscaping on a sand bar? We weren't sure anything would grow on a sand bar. We thought he was nuts." 

R. Caro, The power broker (1974), 223

But free and open debate had not made his dreams come true.

Once, no reformer, no idealist, had believed more sincerely than he in free and open discussion. No reformer, no idealist, had argued more vigorously that legislative bills should be fully debated, and that the debates should be published so that the citizenry could be informed on the issues. 

But free and open debate had not made his dreams come true. Instead, politicians had crushed them. And now he was going to make sure that, with the exception of Al Smith and Belle Moskowitz, no one — not citizenry, not press, not Legislature — was going to know what was in the bills dealing with parks that the Legislature was going to pass. The best bill drafted in Albany set to work.

R. Caro, The power broker (1974), 173

Even personality must be reduced to a number

It was the proposal of a fanatic. John Calvin specifying permissible arrangements for women's hair in sixteenth-century Geneva was not more thorough than was Bob Moses enumerating the "functions" and "responsibilities" of New York's civil servants. No aspect of conduct on the job was too small to be graded. Even personality must be reduced to a number.

R. Caro, The power broker (1974),  75