Frases de Bernard Cornwell

Bernard Cornwell Foto
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Bernard Cornwell

Fecha de nacimiento: 23. Febrero 1944
Otros nombres:برنارد کرنول

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Bernard Cornwell, OBE es un novelista y periodista inglés. A muy corta edad perdió a sus padres: un soldado de las Reales Fuerzas Aéreas Canadienses y una recluta del Cuerpo Auxiliar Femenino Británico. El apellido Cornwell es el de su madre. Adoptado por los miembros de una estricta secta protestante, Cornwell cursó diversos estudios y llegó a ser empleado como maestro tras pasar por la Universidad. Tras trabajar para la BBC, se trasladó a Estados Unidos donde comenzó las sagas históricas por las que se ha hecho famoso. Según Cornwell la decisión de escribir procede de una necesidad estrictamente económica: al no tener tarjeta de residente, solo la actividad intelectual le estaba permitida para ganarse la vida dentro de la legalidad.

En junio de 2006 fue nombrado oficial de la Orden del Imperio Británico dentro de la lista colectiva en honor del 80 cumpleaños de la reina Isabel II.

En España sus novelas has sido publicadas por Edhasa y Quinteto. Sus principales sagas son las dedicadas al fusilero Richard Sharpe en la época de la conquista de la India por el Imperio británico y las guerras napoleónicas. Editada bajo el epígrafe "El sable y el fusil", la saga fue adaptada para televisión por la BBC con Sean Bean como protagonista.

Hay otras tres series de Cornwell publicadas en castellano. Son la dedicada a las leyendas artúricas ; al arquero Thomas de Hookton ; y, por último, la ambientada en las invasiones vikingas de Gran Bretaña durante el reinado de Alfredo el Grande .

También se han publicado en castellano sus novelas Stonehenge y El ladrón de la horca. Quedarían al menos otras 6 novelas inéditas.

Además, en el año 2011 editaron el primero de sus libros de la saga de Nathaniel Starbuck, llamado en castellano Rebelde.

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Frases Bernard Cornwell

„A soldier's job was to kill. A rifle killed.“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: He was a Major now, the ranks long in his past, yet he still carried the rifle. He had always carried a long-arm into battle; a musket when he was a private, a rifle now he was an officer. He saw no reason not to carry a gun. A soldier's job was to kill. A rifle killed. Major Richard Sharpe, p. 55

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„All feared the artillery, coughing its death in fan-like swathes.“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: Some feared the cavalry and in their minds they rehearsed the thunder of a thousand hooves, the dust rolling like a sea fog from the charge and shot through with the bright blades that could slice a man's life away or, worse, hook out his eyes and leave him in darkness for life. Others feared musket fire, the lottery of an unaimed bullet coming in the relentless volleys that would fire the dry grass with burning wads and roast the wounded where they fell. All feared the artillery, coughing its death in fan-like swathes. It was best not to think about that. Narrator, p. 63

„To say anything was useless, to say nothing was cowardly.“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: To say anything was useless, to say nothing was cowardly. "I think it a bad idea, Sir." Captain Richard Sharpe, in response to the suggestion of whipping sixty men, p. 151

„We celebrate kings, we honor great men, we admire aristocrats, we applaud actors, we shower gold on portrait painters and we even, sometimes, reward soldiers, but we always despise merchants.“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: "That's what it's about, Sharpe, trade. That's why you're fighting here, trade." "It seems a funny thing to be fighting about, sir." "Does it? Not to me, Sharpe. Without trade there's no wealth, and without wealth there's no society worth having. Without trade, Private Sharpe, we'd be nothing but beasts in the mud. Trade is indeed worth fighting for, though the good Lord knows we don't appreciate trade much. We celebrate kings, we honor great men, we admire aristocrats, we applaud actors, we shower gold on portrait painters and we even, sometimes, reward soldiers, but we always despise merchants. But why? It is the merchant's wealth that drives the mills, Sharpe; it moves the looms, it it keeps the hammers falling, it fills the fleets, it makes the roads, it forges the iron, it grows the wheat, it bakes the bread, and it builds the churches and the cottages and the palaces. Without God and trade we would be nothing." Colonel Hector McCandless, and Private Richard Sharpe, p. 300

„They had pride. And they had the precious ability to fire platoon volleys.“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: They were thieves and murderers and fools and rapists and drunkards. Not one had joined for love of country, and certainly not for love of their King [... ] They were paid pitifully, fined for every item they lost, and the few pennies they managed to keep they usually gambled away. They were feckless rogues, as violent as hounds and as coarse as swine, but they had two things. They had pride. And they had the precious ability to fire platoon volleys. They could fire those half company volleys faster than any other army in the world. Stand in front of these recoats and the balls came thick as hail. It was death to be in their way and seven French battlions were now in death's forecourt and the South Essex was tearing them to ribbons. Narrator, p. 101

„Defeat the enemy's infantry and the cavalry and gunners had nowhere to hide.“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: "Now we'll see how their infantry fight," Wellesley said savagely to Campbell, and Sharpe understood that this was the real testing point, for infantry was everything. The infantry was despised for it did not have the cavalry's glamour, nor the killing capacity of the gunners, but it was still the infantry that won battles. Defeat the enemy's infantry and the cavalry and gunners had nowhere to hide. Sergeant Richard Sharpe, p. 233

„The redcoats were doing what they did best, what they were paid a shilling a day less stoppages to do: they were killing.“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: They were the despised of England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. They were drunks and thieves, the scourings of gutters and jails. They wore the red coat because no one else wanted them, or because they were so desperate that they had no choice. They were the scum of Britain, but they could fight. They had always fought, but in the army, they were told how to fight with discipline. They discovered sergeants and officers who valued them. They punished them too, of course, and swore at them, and cursed them, and whipped their backs bloody, and cursed them again, but valued them. They even loved them, and officers worth five thousand pounds a year were fighting alongside them now. The redcoats were doing what they did best, what they were paid a shilling a day less stoppages to do: they were killing. Narrator, p. 317

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„It was death to be in their way and seven French battlions were now in death's forecourt“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: They were thieves and murderers and fools and rapists and drunkards. Not one had joined for love of country, and certainly not for love of their King [... ] They were paid pitifully, fined for every item they lost, and the few pennies they managed to keep they usually gambled away. They were feckless rogues, as violent as hounds and as coarse as swine, but they had two things. They had pride. And they had the precious ability to fire platoon volleys. They could fire those half company volleys faster than any other army in the world. Stand in front of these recoats and the balls came thick as hail. It was death to be in their way and seven French battlions were now in death's forecourt and the South Essex was tearing them to ribbons. Narrator, p. 101

„How can you expect obedience from the men when officers are corrupt?“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: My God, I will not abide plundering, especially by officers. How can you expect obedience from the men when officers are corrupt? General Arthur Wellesley, p. 175

„And he was amazed, as he always was, by the courage of the French. They were being struck hard, yet they stayed.“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: The real noise was of musketry, the pounding cough of volley fire, the relentless noise, and if he listened hard he could hear the balls striking on muskets and pounding into flesh. He could also hear the cries of the wounded and the screams of officers' horses put down by the balls. And he was amazed, as he always was, by the courage of the French. They were being struck hard, yet they stayed. They stayed behind a straggling heap of dead men, they edged aside to let the wounded crawl behind, they reloaded and fired, and all the time the volleys kept coming. Captain Richard Sharpe, p. 300

„Once a thief, always a thief, only now I steal from the enemy.“

— Bernard Cornwell
Context: Until two days ago,' she went on suddenly, 'I thought that my life depended on other people. On employers. Now I think it depends on me. You taught me that. But I still need money.' 'Money's easy,' said Sharpe dismissively. 'That is not the conventional wisdom,' Sarah said drily. 'Steal the stuff,' Sharpe said. 'You were really a thief?' 'Still am. Once a thief, always a thief, only now I steal from the enemy. And some day I'll have enough to stop me from doing it and then I'll have to stop others from thieving from me.' 'You have a simple view of life.' 'You're born, you survive, you die,' Sharpe said. 'What's hard about that?

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