Omaha Beach Quotes

Were there atheists in foxholes during World War II? Of course, as can be verified by my dogtags . . . A veteran of Omaha Beach in 1944, I insisted upon including 'None' instead of P, C, or J as my religious affiliation. ~ Warren Allen Smith

A little while ago I visited Omaha Beach for the second time in my life. In the intervening 26 years, nearly 20,000 tides had come and gone and little remains visible of the greatest military landing in man's history of endless warring. What's to be seen is mostly in a superb museum and a panoramic cemetery. The cemetery memorializes with dignity and grandeur the event and the dead, and moves one deeply. Before they die less precipitously and/or in lesser purpose, Americans who can should visit World War II's Normandy Beach. Such seeing and remembering helps a man's perspective. ~ Malcolm Forbes

ON THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF D-Day, I was broadcasting from the American cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach at Colleville-sur-Mer in Normandy, one of the bloodiest battlefields in American history. The cemetery is at once haunting and beautiful, with 9,386 white marble headstones in long, even lines across the manicured fields of dark green, each headstone marking the death of a brave young American. The anniversary was a somber and celebratory ~ Tom Brokaw

This section of Scripture reminds me of the rows of white crosses along the wind-swept hills of Normandy. We're free today because, in June 1944, during the three-month battle of Normandy, nearly fifty-three thousand "nobodies" paid the ultimate price to defeat Nazi tyranny. No fewer than 9, 387 grave markers overlook Omaha Beach, many of them bearing the names of men who died during the first hours of the invasion called D-day. Beneath every white marker lies a person of significance because each one had an impact on the rest of history; each one made a difference. It's a very moving place to be. Visitors to that patch of land near Colleville-sur Mer, France, frequently weep quietly because there the real heroes of the war are silently honored. ~ Charles R. Swindoll

I have returned many times to honour the valiant men who died ... every man who set foot on Omaha Beach was a hero. ~ Omar N. Bradley

The first dead man on Omaha Beach must be a sailor! ~ Paddy Chayefsky

My mother was like sand. The kind that warms you on a beach when you come shivering out of the cold water. The kind that clings to your body, leaving its impression on your skin to remind you where you've been and where you've come from. The kind you keep finding in your shoes and your pockets long after you've left the beach. She was also like the sand that archaeologists dig through. Layers and layers of sand that have kept dinosaur bones together for millions of years. And as hot and dusty and plain as that sand might be, those archaeologists are grateful for it, because without it to keep the bones in place, everything would scatter. Everything would fall apart. ~ Clare Vanderpool

There are some lucky people who feel they experience happiness when they gaze at a cloud or walk on the beach but the rest of us only get that special tingly buzz when we've bought, won, achieved, hooked or booked something. Then our own brains give us a hit of dopamine, which makes us feel good. We don't need substances; we are our own drug dealers. The ~ Ruby Wax

[The movie Beaches] was really about how women fight. Women fight, say terrible things to each other and an hour later they make up and go shopping. I think they got the better idea of how it should be done. ~ Garry Marshall

We had idyllic summer holidays, building sandcastles with my father on the beach at Bridlington. It might sound strange, but I think that secure cocoon of familial love was so nourishing, it gave me the strength to live life on my own. ~ Kiki Dee

As a kid I collected stamps, pebbles on the beach, anything. I liked to have at least 10 of something. ~ Jean Pigozzi

The house had a private walk down to a private spit of beach, and in the mornings the four of them would troop downhill and swim - even he did, in his pants and undershirt and an old oxford shirt, which no one bothered him about - and then lie on the sand baking, the wet clothes ungluing themselves from his body as they dried. Sometimes Harold would come and watch them, or swim as well. In the afternoons, Malcolm and JB would pedal off through the dunes on bicycles, and he and Willem would follow on foot, picking up bits of shaley shells and the sad carapaces of long-nibbled-away hermit crabs as they went, Willem slowing his pace to match his own. In the evenings, when the air was soft, JB and Malcolm sketched and he and Willem read. He felt doped, on sun and food and salt and contentment, and at night he fell asleep quickly and early, and in the mornings he woke before the others so he could stand on the back porch alone looking over the sea. ~ Hanya Yanagihara

Ever since I started acting, I've always spoken to our people about identity. I've spoken to kids, telling them: Where do I get my strength to push through the barriers to get me where I'm at today? It's my culture and my traditions, you know? ~ Adam Beach

I surfed Dana Point, San Clemente, and of course Huntington Beach. Every morning, you could find me at the hot water pipe. ~ Dick Dale

In my district, the ports of Long Beach and Los Angeles handle approximately 44 percent of all of the goods delivered to American shores, yet they are in constant need of revenue for facilities, improvements and upgrades to roads and bridges and rails. ~ Dana Rohrabacher

Yes, that would be Hermione's advice: go straight to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. Harry stared out of the window at the inky, blue-black sky. He doubted very much whether a book could help him now. As far as he knew, he was the only living person to have survived a curse like Voldemort's; it was highly unlikely, therefore, that he would find his symptoms listed in Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. As for informing the Headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, full-length wizard's robes and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion into his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry's owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? ~ J.K. Rowling

Rayna does not get sick on planes. Also, Rayna does not stop talking on planes. By the time we land at Okaloosa Regional Airport, I'm wondering if I've spoken as many words in my entire life as she did on the plane. With no layovers, it was the longest forty-five minutes of my whole freaking existence.
I can tell Rachel's nerves are also fringed. She orders an SUV limo-Rachel never does anything small-to pick us up and insists that Rayna try the complimentary champagne. I'm fairly certain it's the first alcoholic beverage Rayna's ever had, and by the time we reach the hotel on the beach, I'm all the way certain.
As Rayna snores in the seat across from me, Rachel checks us into the hotel and has our bags taken to our room. "Do you want to head over to the Gulfarium now?" she asks. "Or, uh, rest up a bit and wait for Rayna to wake up?"
This is an important decision. Personally, I'm not tired at all and would love to see a liquored-up Rayna negotiate the stairs at the Gulfarium. But I'd feel a certain guilt if she hit her hard head on a wooden rail or something and then we'd have to pay the Gulfarium for the damages her thick skull would surely cause. Plus, I'd have to suffer a reproving look from Dr. Milligan, which might actually hurt my feelings because he reminds me a bit of my dad.
So I decide to do the right thing. "Let's rest for a while and let her snap out of it. I'll call Dr. Milligan and let him know we've checked in."
Two hours later, Sleepin ~ Anna Banks

The writer loves the fog as it pours in; he loves the sun when the fog pours out. The rest of California is Beach Boys country, but San Francisco has that moody thing going on, those blues notes wrapped in moisture, an atmosphere that tempers California dreaming and makes life more real. The fog brings reality, but it is still a California reality, one spent outdoors the whole year round. ~ Eric Maisel

Over the drop, a luminous pond lay below them like a pale magic lantern. It was as if the moon had plummeted into the water and smashed open. Engulfed in darkness, with only a scatter of stars above, the place felt like a bright secret – something ancient and precious. ~ Sara Sheridan

Clean boyfriend someday. I love you. Joe. On the other side was a photograph of the Sylvia Beach Hotel on the Oregon coast, where we'd stayed together once. I stared at the photograph for several moments, a series of feelings washing over me in waves: grateful for a word from someone I knew, nostalgic for Joe, disappointed that only one person had written to me, and heartbroken, unreasonable as it was, that the one person who had wasn't Paul. I bought two bottles of Snapple lemonade, a king-sized Butterfinger, and a bag of Doritos and went outside and sat on the front steps, devouring the things I'd purchased while reading the postcard over and over again. After a while, I noticed a box in the corner of the porch stuffed ~ Cheryl Strayed

At home, we live on the beach, and it's like every day is a date. ~ Grant Show

I would love it if my book was considered chick-lit or a beach read. That would be great. People would buy my book. ~ Emily Gould

Like the beach glass, the wood was more beautiful because of its journey, because of the things it had been through.

Inside the perfect shells is dim,
It's through the cracks, the light comes in. ~ Lisa Wingate

If age someday grounds my feet and wilts my port de bras, what vestige of the old life will be left? The signs that I was a dancer will gradually fade like stripes on a beach towel. Even my knowledge of the art form, reaped in sweat over decades, could be lost over time. ~ Sascha Radetsky

Back in the old days, we were often compared to Led Zeppelin. If we did something with harmony, it was the Beach Hoys. Something heavy was Led Zeppelin. ~ Freddie Mercury

In reality, if there are 200 people commenting on something online, it's less than a grain of salt in a huge beach of humanity - who cares? ~ Suki Waterhouse

When I'm not working, I love going to the beach. I am from Florida, so I definitely love the beach life. I love horse-back riding. Just to go out to a barn, it's fun. It's kind of like a get-away from the city. And also, I love animals. ~ Stefanie Scott

I've been kind of submerged in my own little geographic location for a really long time in Venice Beach. ~ Amber Tamblyn

Where does a wise man kick a pebble? On the beach. Where does a wise man hide a leaf? In the forest. ~ Gilbert K. Chesterton

When I started travelling, I would go to a city and be on television and I used to get the question, 'Why do you work? If I were you, I'd just go and lie on a beach somewhere.' And I'd answer, 'Well, I wanted to make something of my life.' ~ Gloria Vanderbilt

Her maternal feelings were unlikely to be assuaged by hearing that the marriage had been performed in the middle of the night on a West Indian beach by a disgraced - if not actually defrocked - priest, witnessed by twenty-five seamen, ten French horses, a small flock of sheep - all gaily beribboned in honor of the occasion - and a King Charles spaniel, who added to the generally festive feeling by attempting to copulate with Murphy's wooden leg at every opportunity. The only thing that could make things worse, in Laoghaire's view, would be to hear that I had participated in the ceremony. ~ Diana Gabaldon

Because a new love affair always gives hope, the irrational mortal loneliness is always crowned, that thing I saw (that horror of a snake emptiness) when I took the deep iodine deathbreath on the Big Sur beach is now justified and hosannah'd and raised up like a sacred urn to Heaven in the mere fact of the taking off of clothes and clashing wits and bodies in the inexpressibly nervously sad delight of love- don't let no old fogies tell you otherwise, and on top of that nobody in the world even ever dares to write the true story of lovem it's awful, we're stuck with a 50% incomplete literature and drama- lying mouth to mouth, kiss to kiss in the pillow dark, loin to loin in unbelievable surrendering sweetness so distant from all our mental fearful abstractions it makes you wonder why men have termed God antisexual somehow- the secret underground truth of mad desire hiding under fenders under buried junkyards throughout the world, never mentioned in newspapers, written about haltingly and like corn by authors and painted tongue in cheek by artists, agh, just listen to Tristan und Isolde by Wagner and think of him in a Bavarian field with his beloved naked beauty under fall leaves. ~ Jack Kerouac

My steps were muffled. It was quiet, so quiet that I felt as if I did not walk but instead crawled in silence. The snow covered everthing and I walked above cotton, on silent carpets, on beach sand. Softness is temporary and deceiving. It gently receives you and gently expels you. ~ Rawi Hage

I'm attempting to put myself in a bottle that will one day wash up on the beach for my children. ~ Randy Pausch

The advantage of knowing where insights come from is that it can make it easier to generate insights in the first place. When we're struggling with seemingly impossible problems, it's important to find time to unwind, to eavesdrop on all those remote associations coming from the right hemisphere. Instead of drinking another cup of coffee, indulge in a little daydreaming. Rather than relentlessly focusing, take a warm shower, or play some Ping-Pong, or walk on the beach. ~ Jonah Lehrer

Eyes closed, I concentrate on visualizing a sandy beach and slowing my breathing - in through my nose, hold, out through my mouth - the way Dr. Andrews, my grief counselor, taught me. I've done this often enough to know it works. I've used it to numb the panic and sorrow for the past two years. Problem is, I've also succeeded in dulling pretty much every other emotion. There's always a price. ~ Eve Silver

Japan is really advanced. They don't go to the beach. The beach comes to them. ~ Gilbert Gottfried

And there ain't nothin' like a friend who can tell you you're just pissin' in the wind.
Neil Young, "Ambulance Blues" from "On the Beach" (1974) ~ Neil Young

In fact, I was one of the few trusted people that Lucy allowed to play with their kids. I spent time at their summer home, rode horses at their ranch, and swam at their beach house. I even spent a Christmas with them at Palm Springs one year. ~ Keith Thibodeaux

I don't know if I can do this anymore," Jack's husky voice muttered sounding defeated. It was such a strange sound coming out of him.
"I know what you mean."
"I'm not sure I want to break up with Kate though."
That snapped her right out of her own pity party. Break up with Kate! Holy shit! "Uh, Jack?"
He tilted his head to look at her under his thick dark lashes. "Yes, my dear?"
"You've been thinking of breaking up with Kate?" She couldn't keep the disbelief out of her voice.
He nodded choking on his own words. "Ever since I saw you like a vision on the beach the first day you got here."
"Wh ... Why would you do that?" She knew the answer. But she wanted to hear him say it.
"I thought that was quite obvious ... for you. ~ K.A. Linde

The way the snowflakes float like tiny feathers - there's an elegance to it. I could watch for hours. It's hypnotic. It reminds me of the feeling I get when I stand on the beach, watching the waves. I'm mesmerized by the power, the vastness, and the mysteries of nature. There's definitely something holy or divine about it. I wonder if it's the same feeling people get when they enter a church. ~ Alex Z. Moores

He'd come back to her, it was true. He was the one to walk out of the woods and onto the beach, to cross the space between them. But he wasn't the only one. It was there in her eyes: she was coming back to him too. ~ Jennifer E. Smith

Occupation prevents you from managing your affairs in your own way. It interferes in every aspect of life and death; it interferes with longing and anger and desire and walking in the street. It interferes with going anywhere and coming back, with going to market, the emergency hospital, the beach, the bedroom, or a distant capital. ~ Mourid Barghouti

At the beach girls arouse me less than in the library. ~ Edouard Leve

If you want to know everything about the market, go to the beach. Push and pull your hands with the waves. Some are bigger waves, some are smaller. But if you try to push the wave out when it's coming in, it'll never happen. The market is always right. ~ Ed Seykota

ot everyone liked Albert. Not everyone was happy that he had become the most important person around. Lots of people were jealous that Albert had a girl to clean his house and the porcelain basin where he did his business at night when he didn't want to go outside to the only actual outhouse in Per-dido Beach. And that he could afford to send his clothes to be washed in the fresh water of the ironically named Lake Evian.
And there were definitely people who didn't like working for Albert, having to do what he said or go hungry.
Albert traveled with a bodyguard now. The bodyguard's name was Jamal. Jamal carried an automatic rifle over his shoulder. He had a massive hunting knife in his belt. And a club that was an oak chair leg with spikes driven through it to make a sort of mace.
Unlike everyone else Albert carried no weapon himself. Jamal was weapon enough. ~ Michael Grant

But Holms had proven stalwart and valiant. When Miss Jones had shown up to discover them in the castle hallway, because she'd heard a suspicious noise and had feared for her schoolchums' safety, they' d had to bring her along. She'd wanted to run straight to the headmistress, of course, but Armand had persuaded her not to. How he regretted that decision now!
The duke had fired his guns at them all. They'd retreated, thought to go to the automobile to fetch a doctor and the sheriff, but they'd stumbled the wrong way and fallen down the slope to the beach instead. All three of them. And there, noble Jesse had died.
Fact. Fiction. Likely because so much of it had happened, and because Armand's red-eyed, stoic distress seemed so genuine, the adults around us had accepted it as truth.
Mostly.
I think if I hadn't been discovered wearing only Armand's coat as I knelt next to Jesse's body, Mrs. Westcliffe might have found the whole thing easier to swallow.
Yet the official version ruled the day. And here we all were basking in it, breathing fresh sea air, warmed by the generous spring sun. Burying a hero. A far, far greater hero than anyone standing around me at his funeral would ever suspect.
Somewhere in deep-blue briny waters, a U-boat rested, filled with live torpedoes and solid-gold men.
I thought I better understood Rue's letters now. I understood her warning about the pain that would come with my Gifts.
I understood my sacrifice. ~ Shana Abe

A dark shadow rose from the depth of the watercourse. Forced to crawl out of the oceans rolling waves, it struggled against the pull of the undertow. Rising, it moved further up the white sandy beach away from the cold water. The creature collapsed onto the cool sand as the crescent moon above shone on his sleek gray skin revealing two immense leather-like wings protruding from his back. Exhaustion clouded his mind.
The darkness of night was soothing, refreshing. Somehow he knew it would bring him strength and sustenance. The creature watched as a great rolling storm cloud sunk into the salty water before him and he tried to remember why he had come. ~ Alaina Stanford

This is the definition of peace.
The definition is interrupted by Toraf's ringtone. Why did Rachel get Toraf a phone? Does she hate me? Fumbling behind him in the sand, Galen puts a hand on it right before it stops ringing. He waits five seconds and...Yep, he's calling again.
"Hello?" he whispers.
"Galen, it's Toraf."
Galen snorts. "You think?"
"Rayna's ready to leave. Where are you?"
Galen sighs. "We're on the beach. Emma's still sleeping. We'll walk back in a few minutes." Emma braved her mom's wrath by skipping curfew again last night to be with him. Grom's mating ceremony is tomorrow, and Galen and Rayna's attendance is required. He'll have to leave her in Toraf's care until he gets back.
"Sorry, Highness. I told you, Rayna's ready to go. You have about two minutes of privacy. She's heading your way. "The phone disconnects.
Galen leans down and sweeps his lips over her sweet neck. "Emma," he whispers.
She sighs. "I heard him," she groans drowsily. "You should tell Toraf that he doesn't have to yell into the phone. And if he keeps doing it, I'm going to accidentally break it."
Galen grins. "He'll get the hang of it soon. He's not a complete idiot."
At this, Emma opens one eye.
He shrugs. "Well, three quarters maybe. But not a complete one."
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" she says, sitting up and stretching.
"You know I do. But I think this mating ceremony will be interesting enough wi ~ Anna Banks

I never worked less than 16-hour days on South Beach. ~ Yancy Butler

However, the beach is cluttered with 12-year-old "Howdy-Doody" refugees, making the walk to the beach both annoying and hazardous. ~ Mickey Dora

RubyMars: Have you heard anything else about when you're leaving for good?

AHall80: Not yet, but everything seems to be on schedule. Should be about 8 weeks. The longest 8 weeks of my life.

RubyMars: I'm sure.

AHall80: I want a shitty, greasy, deep dish pizza like you can't imagine. I can already taste it.

AHall80: A hot shower… a real bed… AC everywhere…

RubyMars: Clean clothes?

AHall80: Clean clothes. Clean socks. No sand.

RubyMars: Clean underwear.

RubyMars: No sand? I thought you were planning on going to the beach?

AHall80: The beach is different. There's water. It isn't just desert and more desert.

RubyMars: I guess that makes sense.

RubyMars: My brother said once that his goal is to never see sand in his life again.

AHall80: For real.

RubyMars: What I didn't finish saying was that he said that, but he's gone to Cancun twice with his boyfriend, LOL.

AHall80: It's different. I'm over this sand shit.

AHall80: Never again

RubyMars: Does that mean you're dead set on not re-enlisting?

AHall80: …

RubyMars: Whatever you want. I'm not judging. We don't have to talk about it.

AHall80: It's not that I don't want to talk about it…

RubyMars: But you don't want to talk about it.

AHall80: :] Basically.

RubyMars: I'll change the subject then.
Mariana Zapata

Answer Professor Mandell's letter when you get a chance and the patience. Ask him not to send me any more poetry books. I already have enough for 1 year anyway. I am quite sick of it anyway. A man walks along the beach and unfortunately gets hit in the head by a cocoanut. His head unfortunately cracks open in two halves. Then his wife comes along the beach singing a song and sees the 2 halves and recognizes them and cries heart breakingly. That is exactly where I am tired of poetry. Supposing the lady just picks up the 2 halves and shouts into them very angrily "Stop that!" Do not mention this when you answer his letter, however. It is quite controversial and Mrs. Mandell is a poet besides. ~ J.D. Salinger

Don't count on me to take you in because I'm angry. I'm angry at you for leading us on such a song and dance all these years, not just these few years but all the years, skipping all those holidays and staying away from beach trips and missing Mom and Dad's thirtieth anniversary and their thirty-fifth and Jeannie's baby and not attending my wedding that time or even sending a card or calling to wish me well. But most of all Denny, most of all: I will never forgive you for consuming every last little drop of our parents' attention and leaving nothing for the rest of us. ~ Anne Tyler