A Quote by Roald Dahl

My father was a Norwegian who came from a small town near Oslo. He broke his arm at the elbow when he was 14, and they amputated it. — © Roald Dahl
My father was a Norwegian who came from a small town near Oslo. He broke his arm at the elbow when he was 14, and they amputated it.
My father had osteomyelitis-his left arm was withered between his elbow and his shoulder ... . But the amputation of a Stone Age man called Leaf, a stoneworker, does not relate to my father at all.
Once, when I tried to calculate the height of the balcony, I broke my arm. Another time, I wanted to see if water moves faster than kerosene. When my father came out to smoke, a fire broke out.
The editor sat in his sanctum, his countenance furrowed with care, His mind at the bottom of business, his feet at the top of a chair, His chair-arm an elbow supporting, his right hand upholding his head, His eyes on his dusty old table, with different documents spread.
I came from an intellectual family. Most were doctors, preachers, teachers, businessmen. My grandfather was a small businessman. His father was an abolitionist doctor, and his father was an immigrant from Germany.
Once a bustling logging town, Sandpoint has embraced its natural beauty to become an amazing resort town drawing people near and far to enjoy its beauty and recreational possibilities. It's truly a small town with a huge backyard.
A reporter from 'The Times' wanted to arm-wrestle, and as I recall, he kept challenging me. So we went at it, and there was a pop. His arm broke. Very strange. He went into a kind of swoon.
In April of 1976, Epic Records was flying out to sign us when I tripped over a light case after a gig and broke my arm. We called the next morning and said, 'Don't go to the airport - Bun E. broke his arm.' They thought Mercury or someone was trying to sign us, so they offered us, like, $25,000 more on top of the deal.
When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.
When my father came over here penniless with $100 sewn into his underwear, thank God some well-meaning liberal didn't come put his arm around him and say, 'Let me take care of you.'
My father always wanted to be 'Col-bear.' He lived in the same town as his father, and his father didn't like the idea of the name with the French pronunciation. So my father said to us, 'Do what you want. You're not going to offend anybody.' And he was dead long before I made my decision.
I dream in Norwegian, I count in Norwegian so that basically makes me Norwegian now, I suppose.
The first time that you escape from home or the small town that you live in - there's a reason a small town is called a small town: It's because not many people want to live there.
When you're growing up in a small town You know you'll grow down in a small town There is only one good use for a small town You hate it and you know you'll have to leave.
Though my father was Norwegian, he always wrote his diaries in perfect English.
When our Lord says, 'I have not spoken of Myself' (Jn. 12:49), and again, 'As the Father said to Me, so I speak' (Jn. 12:50), and 'The word which you hear is not mine, but the Father's Who sent Me' (Jn. 14:24), and in another place, 'As the Father commanded Me, even so I do' (Jn. 14:31), it is not because He lacks deliberate purpose or power of initiative, nor yet because He has to wait for the preconcerted key-note, that He employs language of this kind. His object is to make it plain that His own will is connected in indissoluble union with the Father.
My father came from Germany. My mom came from Venezuela. My father's culturally German, but his father was Japanese.
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