I'm glad I understand that while language is a gift, listening is a responsibility. (U. S. poet and writer, 1943- )
The summer of 1943 at Exeter was as happy a time as I ever had in my life.
Until 1943 I received no stipend. I was able to support myself as my mother was the daughter of a relatively wealthy cotton manufacturer.
I accept responsibility for U-boat warfare from 1933 onward, and of the entire navy from 1943 on, but to make me responsible for what happened to Jews in Germany, or Russian soldiers on the east front it is so ridiculous all I can do is laugh.
I visited the Gymnasium in The Hague and passed my final examination (in the sciences section) in 1943.
Since the death of Nikola Tesla in 1943, his life has deserved a worthy biography. Bernard Carlson has delivered that in Tesla: Inventor of the Electrical Age, which portrays Tesla as intensely human. . . . Anyone, whether simply an interested reader or a professional historian, engineer, or physicist, will finish Tesla with a deepened understanding of his world, character, and accomplishments.
I take something that happened to me in 1983, and I make it happen to somebody else in 1943. I pick my life apart that way, try to understand it better by writing straight through it.
I was born in Bournemouth, England, in 1943.
It was 1943. The U. S. had already entered World War II, so I decided to join the army.
I went into the Air Corps from 1943 through 1945.
If I were to sign it now, I'd be committing forgery. I'd be putting my 1943 signature on a canvas painted in 1922.
