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1 " But what I would like to know," says Albert, " is whether there would not have been a war if the Kaiser had said No." " I'm sure there would," I interject, " he was against it from the first." " Well, if not him alone, then perhaps if twenty or thirty people in the world had said No." " That's probable," I agree, " but they damned well said Yes." " It's queer, when one thinks about it," goes on Kropp, " we are here to protect our fatherland. And the French are over there to protect their fatherland. Now who's in the right?" " Perhaps both," say I without believing it." Yes, well now," pursues Albert, and I see that he means to drive me into a corner, " but our professors and parsons and newspapers say that we are the only ones that are right, and let's hope so;--but the French professors and parsons and newspapers say that the right is on their side, now what about that?" " That I don't know," I say, " but whichever way it is there's war all the same and every month more countries coming in." Tjaden reappears. He is still quite excited and again joins the conversation, wondering just how a war gets started." Mostly by one country badly offending another," answers Albert with a slight air of superiority.Then Tjaden pretends to be obtuse. " A country? I don't follow. A mountain in Germany cannot offend a mountain in France. Or a river, or a wood, or a field of wheat." " Are you really as stupid as that, or are you just pulling my leg?" growls Kropp, " I don't mean that at all. One people offends the other--" " Then I haven't any business here at all," replies Tjaden, " I don't feel myself offended." " Well, let me tell you," says Albert sourly, " it doesn't apply to tramps like you." " Then I can be going home right away," retorts Tjaden, and we all laugh, " Ach, man! he means the people as a whole, the State--" exclaims Mller." State, State" --Tjaden snaps his fingers contemptuously, " Gendarmes, police, taxes, that's your State;--if that's what you are talking about, no, thank you." " That's right," says Kat, " you've said something for once, Tjaden. State and home-country, there's a big difference." " But they go together," insists Kropp, " without the State there wouldn't be any home-country." " True, but just you consider, almost all of us are simple folk. And in France, too, the majority of men are labourers, workmen, or poor clerks. Now just why would a French blacksmith or a French shoemaker want to attack us? No, it is merely the rulers. I had never seen a Frenchman before I came here, and it will be just the same with the majority of Frenchmen as regards us. They weren't asked about it any more than we were." " Then what exactly is the war for?" asks Tjaden.Kat shrugs his shoulders. " There must be some people to whom the war is useful." " Well, I'm not one of them," grins Tjaden." Not you, nor anybody else here." " Who are they then?" persists Tjaden. " It isn't any use to the Kaiser either. He has everything he can want already." " I'm not so sure about that," contradicts Kat, " he has not had a war up till now. And every full-grown emperor requires at least one war, otherwise he would not become famous. You look in your school books." " And generals too," adds Detering, " they become famous through war." " Even more famous than emperors," adds Kat." There are other people back behind there who profit by the war, that's certain," growls Detering." I think it is more of a kind of fever," says Albert. " No one in particular wants it, and then all at once there it is. We didn't want the war, the others say the same thing--and yet half the world is in it all the same. "
2 " Halt glared at his friend as the whistling continued.'I had hoped that your new sense of responsibly would put an end to that painful shrieking noise you make between your lips' he said.Crowley smiled. It was a beautiful day and he was feeling at peace with the world. And that meant he was more than ready to tease Halt 'It's a jaunty song''What's jaunty about it?' Halt asked, grim faced. Crowley made an uncertain gesture as he sought for an answer to that question.'I suppose it's the subject matter' he said eventually. 'It's a very cheerful song. Would you like me to sing it for you?''N-' Halt began but he was too late, as Crowley began to sing. He had a pleasant tenor voice, in fact, and his rendering of the song was quite good. But to Halt it was as attractive as a rusty barn door squeaking.'A blacksmith from Palladio, he met a lovely lady-o''Whoa! Whoa!' Halt said 'He met a lovely lady-o?' Halt repeated sarcastically 'What in the name of all that's holy is a lady-o?''It's a lady' Crowley told him patiently.'Then why not sing 'he met a lovely lady'?' Halt wanted to know.Crowley frowned as if the answer was blatantly obvious." Because he's from Palladio, as the song says. It's a city on the continent, in the southern part of Toscana.''And people there have lady-o's, instead of ladies?' Asked Halt'No. They have ladies, like everyone else. But 'lady' doesn't rhyme with Palladio, does it? I could hardly sing, 'A blacksmith from Palladio, he met his lovely lady', could I?''It would make more sense if you did' Halt insisted 'But it wouldn't rhyme' Crowley told him.'Would that be so bad?''Yes! A song has to rhyme or it isn't a proper song. It has to be lady-o. It's called poetic license.''It's poetic license to make up a word that doesn't exist and which, by the way, sound extremely silly?' Halt asked.Crowley shook his head 'No. It's poetic license to make sure that the two lines rhyme with each other'Halt thought for a few seconds, his eyes knitted close together. Then inspiration struck him.'Well then couldn't you sing 'A blacksmith from Palladio, he met a lovely lady, so...'?''So what?' Crowley challengedHalt made and uncertain gesture with his hands as he sought more inspiration. Then he replied. 'He met a lovely lady, so...he asked her for her hand and gave her a leg of lamb.''A leg of lamb? Why would she want a leg of lamb?' Crowley demanded Halt shrugged 'Maybe she was hungry "
3 " I must show the blacksmith and the shopkeeper once more--two years after marriage--time long enough to have made common people as common to each other as the weed by the roadside; but these are not common to each other yet, and never will be. They will never complain of being _desillusionnes_, for they have never been illuded. They look up each to the other still, because they were right in looking up each to the other from the first. Each was, and therefore each is and will be, real. "
― George MacDonald , A Daughter's Devotion
4 " [N]othing about a book is so unmistakable and so irreplaceable as the stamp of the cultured mind. I don't care what the story is about or what may be the momentary craze for books that appear to have been hammered out by the village blacksmith in a state of intoxication; the minute you get the easy touch of the real craftsman with centuries of civilisation behind him, you get literature. "
― Dorothy L. Sayers , The Letters of Dorothy L. Sayers 1899-1936: The Making of a Detective Novelist
5 " A hero called Adin rose from the ranks of the people. He was an ordinary man, a blacksmith who made swords and armor and shoes for horses. But he had been blessed with strsngth, courage, and cleverness. "
6 " I have lived through an eventful year, yet understand no more of it than a babe in arms. Of all the people of this town I am the one least fitted to write a memorial. Better the blacksmith with his cries of rage and woe. "
― J.M. Coetzee , Waiting for the Barbarians
7 " And Phoebe and Sebastian went their separate ways, to the blacksmith shop and the library, after several backward glances that weren't coordinated enough to allow either to know that the other one was looking. "
― , Thrice Upon a Marigold (Upon a Marigold, #3)
8 " Headache!" Zeus bellowed. " Bad. bad headache!" As if to prove his point, the lord of the universe slammed his face into his pancakes, which demolished the pancakes and the plate and put a crack in the table, but did nothing for his headache." Aspirin?" Apollo suggested. (he was the god of healing)" Nice cup og tea?" Hestia suggested" I could split your skull open," offered Hephaestus, the blacksmith god" Hephaestus!" Hera cried. " Don't talk to your father that way!" " What?" Hephaestus demanded " Clearly he's got a problem in there. I could open up the hood and take a look. Might relieve the pressure. Besides, he's immortal. It won't kill him "
9 " If you're the village blacksmith and a model T comes along, you better become a mechanic. People's lives are better when they get news online versus having to wait for the morning paper. It's a lot more efficient, a lot more real time, a lot less waste. "
