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WHATEVER LOVE MEANS
Although neither or them remembered the occasion, Diana first met her future husband when she was just a baby. It happened during the winter of 1961, when twelve-year-old Charles, Prince of Wales, was visiting his mother’s Sandringham retreat.
At the time, your Prince Charles barely glanced at the tiny baby sleeping in her cot. After all, bow could a twelve-year-old boy be interested in babies?
But the Prince would eventually take a very keen interest in this particular baby —it would just take some time.
In fact, it would be sixteen years before Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer took place in the middle of a farmer’s field during a shooting party in November 1977.
It was a cold, rainy, bleak afternoon when sixteen-year-old Diana, dressed in a borrowed parka that was too large for her, boots, and blue jeans, crossed the field to meet the heir to the British throne.
It was almost twilight when the two came face to face near Nobottle Woods.
“What a sad man,” Diana thought when she first saw him. The future Princess was intrigued to finally meet the most eligible bachelor in England, thought she was not impressed with his five-foot-ten-inch height, thinking to herself that she would tower over him in high heels. But Diana would later say that she admired his beautiful blue eyes.
The Prince later remarked that he thought Diana was “a very jolly and attractive” girl, “full of fun,” though Diana herself believed that “he barely noticed me at all.”
Diana, it was discovered later, first came to the attention of the royal family when she acted as a bridesmaid for her sister Jane’s wedding that April. It was the first major social occasion that Diana attended as a young woman. And many of the royals were surprised at how beautiful and mature the once-gawky girl had become.
Even the Queen Mother. Prince Charles’s grandmother, noticed Diana’s beauty, grace, and charm. She complimented the Earl on the fine job he had done in bringing Diana up.
A short time later, Prince Charles sent his valet to hand-deliver a formal invitation for Diana to accompany him that very evening to the opera and a latenight dinner at the palace.
Though she was flustered, and the invitation came at such short notice, Diana accepted. She and her roommate, Carolyn Bartholomew, hurried to dress and prepare Diana for her big date. The evening was a success, and an invitation to party on the royal yacht came soon after……
Although she was intimidated by the crowd at Balmoral, Diana was wise enough not to stay in the castle itself . She asked for, and was granted, an invitation to stay with her sister Jane and her young husband at their cottage on the Balmoral estate.
The Prince visited Diana there every day, offering to escort her to a barbecue, or extending an invitation for a long walk in the woods.
When Charles went to Switzerland for a ski vacation, Diana missed him terribly. He called her after a day or two, and told Diana he had something important to ask her.
He arrived home on February, 3, 1981.Three days later, he arranged to see Diana at Windsor Castle. Late that evening, while Prince Charles was showing Diana the nursery, he asked her to marry him.
To his surprise, Diana treated his proposal as a joke, She actually giggled. But soon she could see that Prince Charles was serious. Despite an insistent voice inside her head that told her she would never be Queen, she accepted his proposal.
Diana told Prince Charles over and over that she loved him.
“Whatever love means.” Was his reply.
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SHALL WE CHOOSE DEATH?
I am speaking not as a Briton, not as a European, not as a member of a western democracy, but as a human being, a member of the species Man, whose continued existence is in doubt. The world is full of conflicts: Jews and Arabs; Indians and Pakistanis; white men and Negroes in Africa; and, overshadowing all minor conflicts, the titanic struggle between communism and anticommunism.
Almost everybody who is politically conscious has strong feelings about one or more of these issues; but I want you, if you can, to set aside such feelings for the moment and consider yourself only as a member of a biological species which has had a remarkable history and whose disappearance none of us can desire. I shall try to say no single word which should appeal to one group rather than to another. All, equally, are in peril, and, if the peril is understood, there is hope that they may collectively avert it. We have to learn to think in a new way. We have to learn to ask ourselves not what steps can be taken to give military victory to whatever group we prefer, for there no longer are such steps. The question we have to ask ourselves is: What steps can be taken to prevent a military contest of which the issue must be disastrous to all sides?
The general public, and even many men in positions of authority, have not realized what would be involved in a war with hydrogen bombs. The general public still thinks in terms of the obliteration of cities. It is understood that the new bombs are more powerful than the old and that, while one atomic bomb could obliterate Hiroshima, one hydrogen bomb could obliterate the largest cities such as London, New York, and Moscow. No doubt in a hydrogen-bomb war great cities would be obliterated. But this is one of the minor disasters that would have to be faced. If everybody in London, New York, and Moscow were exterminated, the world might, in the course of a few centuries, recover from the blow. But we now know, especially since the Bikini test, that hydrogen bombs can gradually spread destruction over a much wider area than had been supposed. It is stated on very good authority that a bomb can now be manufactured which will be 25,000 times as powerful as that which destroyed Hiroshima. Such a bomb, if exploded near the ground or under water, sends radioactive particles into the upper air. They sink gradually and reach the surface of the earth in the form of a deadly dust or rain. It was this dust which infected the Japanese fishermen and their catch of fish although they were outside what American experts believed to be the danger zone. No one knows how widely such lethal radioactive particles might be diffused, but the best authorities are unanimous in saying that a war with hydrogen bombs is quite likely to put an end to the human race. It is feared that if many hydrogen bombs are used there will be universal death – sudden only for a fortunate minority, but for the majority a slow torture of disease and disintegration…
Here, then, is the problem which I present to you, stark and dreadful and inescapable: Shall we put an end to the human race1 or shall mankind renounce war? People will not face this alternative because it is so difficult to abolish war. The abolition of war will demand distasteful limitations of national sovereignty. But what perhaps impedes understanding of the situation more than anything else is that the term ‘mankind’ feels vague and abstract. People scarcely realize in imagination that the danger is to themselves and their children and their grandchildren, and not only to a dimly apprehended humanity’ And so they hope that perhaps war may be allowed to continue provided modern weapons are prohibited. I am afraid this hope is illusory. Whatever agreements not to use hydrogen bombs had been reached in time of peace, they would no longer be considered binding in time of war, and both sides would set to work to manufacture hydrogen bombs as soon as war broke out, for if one side manufactured the bombs and the other did not, the side that manufactured them would inevitably be victorious…
As geological time is reckoned, Man has so far existed only for a very short period one million years at the most. What he has achieved, especially during the last 6,000 years, is something utterly new in the history of the Cosmos, so far at least as we are acquainted with it. For countless ages the sun rose and set, the moon waxed and waned, the stars shone in the night, but it was only with the coming of Man that these things were understood. In the great world of astronomy and in the little world of the atom, Man has unveiled secrets which might have been thought undiscoverable. In art and literature and religion, some men have shown a sublimity of feeling which makes the species worth preserving. Is all this to end in trivial horror because so few are able to think of Man rather than of this or that group of men? Is our race so destitute of wisdom, so incapable of impartial love, so blind even to the simplest dictates of self-preservation, that the last proof of its silly cleverness is to be the extermination of all life on our planet? – for it will be not only men who will perish, but also the animals, whom no one can accuse of communism or anticommunism.
I cannot believe that this is to be the end. I would have men forget their quarrels for a moment and reflect that, if they will allow themselves to survive, there is every reason to expect the triumphs of the future to exceed immeasurably the triumphs of the past. There lies before us, if we choose, continual progress in happiness, knowledge, and wisdom. Shall we, instead, choose death, because we cannot forget our quarrels? I appeal, as a human being to human beings: remember your humanity, and forget the rest. If you can do so, the way lies open to a new Paradise; if you cannot, nothing lies before you but universal death.
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A Walk in the Woods
I was puzzled! Why was this old woman making such a fuss about an old copse which was of no use to anybody? She had written letters to the local paper, even to a national, protesting about a projected by-pass to her village, and, looking at a map, the route was nowhere near where she lived and it wasn’t as if the area was attractive. I was more than puzzled, I was intrigued.
The enquiry into the route of the new by-pass to the village was due to take place shortly, and I wanted to know what it was that motivated her. So it was that I found myself knocking on a cottage door, being received by Mary Smith and then being taken for a walk to the woods.
“I’ve always loved this place”, she said, “it has a lot of memories for me, and for others. We all used it. They called it ‘Lovers lane’. It’s not much of a lane, and it doesn’t go anywhere important, but that’s why we all came here. To be away from people, to be by ourselves ” she added.
It was indeed pleasant that day and the songs of many birds could be heard. Squirrels gazed from the branches, quite bold in their movements, obviously few people passed this way and they had nothing to fear. I could imagine the noise of vehicles passing through these peaceful woods when the by-pass was built, so I felt that she probably had something there but as I hold strong opinions about the needs of the community over-riding the opinions of private individuals, I said nothing. The village was quite a dangerous place because of the traffic especially for old people and children, their safety was more important to me than an old woman’s whims.
“Take this tree”, she said pausing after a short while. “To you it is just that, a tree. Not unlike many others here”. She gently touched the bark. “Look here, under this branch, what can you see?”
“It looks as if someone has done a bit of carving with a knife” I said after a cursory inspection.
“Yes, that’s what it is!” she said softly. “There are letters and a lover’s heart”.
I looked again, this time more carefully. The heart was still there and there was a suggestion of an arrow through it. The letters on one side were indistinct, but on the other an ‘R’ was clearly visible with what looked like an ‘I’ after it. “Some budding romance?” I asked, “did you know who they were?”
“Oh yes, I knew them”, said Mary Smith, “it says RH loves MS”.
I realised that I could be getting out of my depth, and longed to be in my office, away from here and this old lady, snug, and with a mug of tea in my hand.
She went on …”He had a penknife with a spike for getting stones from a horse’s hoof, and I helped him to carve my initials. We were very much in love, but he was going away, and could not tell me what he was involved in the army. I had guessed of course. It was the last evening we ever spent together，because he went away the next day, back to his Unit. “
Mary Smith was quiet for a while, then she sobbed. “His mother showed me the telegram. ‘Sergeant R Holmes ….. Killed in action in the 9)invasion of France’”.
“‘I had hoped that you and Robin would one day get married” she said, “He was my only child, and I would have loved to be a Granny, they would have been such lovely babies’- she was like that! “
“Two years later she too was dead. ‘Pneumonia, following a chill on the chest’ was what the doctor said, but I think it was an old fashioned broken heart. A child would have helped both of us.”
There was a further pause. Mary Smith gently caressed the wounded tree, just as she would have caressed him. “And now they want to take our tree away from me.” Another quiet sob, then she turned to me. “I was young and pretty then, I could have had anybody, I wasn’t always the old woman you see here now. I had everything I wanted in life, a lovely man, health and a future to look forwards to”.
She paused again and looked around. The breeze gently moved through the leaves with a sighing sound. “There were others, of course, but not a patch on my Robin!” she said strongly. “And now I have nothing – except the memories this tree holds. If only I could get my hands on that awful man who writes in the paper about the value of the road they are going to build where we are standing now, I would tell him. Has he never loved, has he never lived, does he not know anything about memories? We were not the only ones, you know, I still meet some who came here as Robin and I did. Yes, I would tell him!”
I turned away, sick at heart.
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Give us 15 Minutes A Day
Your boss has a bigger vocabulary than you have.
That’s one good reason why he’s your boss.
This discovery has been made in the word laboratories of the world. Not by theoretical English professors, but by practical, hard-headed scholars who have been searching for the secrets of success.
After a host of experiments and years of testing they have found out:
That if your vocabulary is limited your chances of success are limited.
That one of the easiest and quickest ways to get ahead is by consciously building up your knowledge of words.
That the vocabularyl of the average person almost stops growing by the middle twenties.
And that from then on it is necessary to have an intelligent plan if progress is to be made. No haphazard hit-or-miss methods will do.
It has long since been satisfactorily established that a high executive does not have a large vocabulary merely because of the opportunities of his position. That would be putting the cart before the horse. Quite the reverse is true. His skill in words was a tremendous help in getting him his job.
Dr.Johnson O’;Connor of thee Human Engineering Laboratory of Boston and of the Stevens Institute of Technology in Hoboken, New Jersey, gave a vocabulary test to 100 young men who were studying to be industrial executives.
Five years later those who had passed in the upper ten percent all., without exception, had executive positions, while not a single young man of the lower twenty-five per cent had become an executive.
You see, there are certain factors in success that can be measured as scientifically as the contents of a test-tube, and it has been discovered that the most common characteristic of outstanding success is “an extensive knowledge of the exact meaning of English words”.
The extent of your vocabulary indicates the degree of your intelligence. Your brain power will increase as you learn to know more words. Here’s the proof.
Two classes in a high school were selected for an experiment. Their ages and their environment were the same. Each class represented an identical cross-section of the community. One, the control class, took the normal courses. The other class was given special vocabulary training. At the end of the period the marks of the latter class surpassed those of the control group, not only in English, but in every subject, including mathematics and the sciences.
Similarly it has been found by Professor Lewis M.Terman, of Stanford University, that a vocabulary test is as accurate a measure of intelligence as any three units of the standard and accepted Stanford-Binet I.Q.tests.
The study of words is not merely something that has to do with literature. Words are your tools of thought. You can’t even think at all without them. Try it. If you are planning to go down town this afternoon you will find that you are saying to yourself:”I think I will go down town this afternoon.” You can’t make such a simple decision as this without using words.
Without words you could make no decisions and from no judgments whatsoever. A pianist may have the most beautiful tunes in his head, but if he had only five keys on his piano he would never get more than a fraction of these tunes out.
Your words are your keys for your thoughts. And the more words you have at your command the deeper, clearer and more accurate will be your thinking.
A command of English will not only improve the. processes of your mind. It will give you assurance; build your self-confidence; lend color to your personality; increase your popularity. Your words are your personality. Your vocabulary is you.
Your words are all that we, your friends, have to know and judge you by. You have no other medium for telling us your thoughts-for convincing us, persuading us, giving us orders.
Words are explosive. Phrases are packed with TNT.A simple word can destroy a friendship, land a large order. The proper phrases in the mouths of clerks have quadrupled the proper phrases inthe mouths of clerks have quadrupled the sales of a department store. The wrong words used by a campaign orator have lost an election. For instance, on one occasion the four unfortunate words, “Rum, Romanism and a Rebellion” used in a Republican campaign speech threw the Catholic vote and the presidential victory to Grover Cleveland. Ears are won by words. Soldiers fight for a phrase.”Make the world safe for Democracy.” “All out for England.” “V for Victory.” The ” Remember the Maine” of Spanish war days has now been changed to “Remember Pearl Harbor.”
Words have changed the direction of history. Words van also change the direction of your life. They have often raised a man from mediocrity to success.
If you consciously increase your vocabulary you will unconsciously raise yourself to a more important station in life, and the new and higher position you have won will, in turn, give you a better opportunity for further enriching your vocabulary. It is a beautiful and successful cycle.
It is because of this intimate connection between words and life itself that we have organized this small volume in a new way. We have not given you mere lists of unrelated words to learn. We have grouped the words around various departments of your life.
This book is planned to enlist your active cooperation. The authors wish you to read it with a pencil in your hand, for you will often be asked to make certain notations,to write answers to particular questions. The more you use your pencil, the more deeply you will become involved, and the deeper your involvement the more this book will help you. We shall occasionally ask you to use your voice as your pencil-to say things out loud. You see, we really want you to keep up a running conversation with us.
It’s fun. And it’s so easy. And we’ve made it like a game. We have filled these pages with a collection of devices that we hope will be stimulating. Here are things to challenge you and your friends. Try these tests on your acquaintances. They will enjoy them and it may encourage them to wider explorations in this exciting field of speech. There are entertaining verbal calisthenics here, colorful facts about language, and many excursions among the words that keep our speech the rich, flexible, lively means of communication that it is.
Come to this book every day. Put the volume by your bedside, if you like. A short time spent on these pages before you turn the lights out each night is better than an irregular hour now and then. If you can find the time to learn only two or three words a day-we will still promise you that at the end of thirty days you will have found a new interest. Give us fifteen minutes a day, and we will guarantee, at the end of a month, when you have turned over the last page of this book, that your words and your reading and your conversation and your life will all have a new and deeper meaning for you.
For words can make you great!
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We Never Told Him He Couldn't Do It
My son Joey was born with club feet. The doctors assured us that with treatment he would be able to walk normally – but would never run very well. The first three years of his life were spent in surgery, casts and braces. By the time he was eight, you wouldn’t know he had a problem when you saw him walk.
The children in our neighborhood ran around as most children do during play, and Joey would jump right in and run and play, too. We never told him that he probably wouldn’t be able to run as well as the other children. So he didn’t know.
In seventh grade he decided to go out for the cross-country team. Every day he trained with the team. He worked harder and ran more than any of the others – perhaps he sensed that the abilities that seemed to come naturally to so many others did not come naturally to him. Although the entire team runs, only the top seven runners have the potential to score points for the school. We didn’t tell him he probably would never make the team, so he didn’t know.
He continued to run four to five miles a day, every day – even the day he had a 103-degree fever. I was worried, so I went to look for him after school. I found him running all alone. I asked him how he felt. “Okay,” he said. He had two more miles to go. The sweat ran down his face and his eyes were glassy from his fever. Yet he looked straight ahead and kept running. We never told him he couldn’t run four miles with a 103-degree fever. So he didn’t know.
Two weeks later, the names of the team runners were called. Joey was number six on the list. Joey had made the team. He was in seventh grade – the other six team members were all eighth-graders. We never told him he shouldn’t expect to make the team. We never told him he couldn’t do it. We never told him he couldn’t do it…so he didn’t know. He just did it.
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