“In spite of photographs taken in beer halls or nightclubs showing her cuddling up to some strapping, smirking youth, it seems that the romantic cliché was true: when she met Adolf Hitler, Eva Braun met her destiny”

“Marianne had sharp, cold eyes and she was spiteful but her father loved her.”

“For hours, for days, for years, she had wandered endlessly within herself but never met anybody, nobody.”

“By no means would I describe Adolph Hitler as sexually normal in his relationships with women. In the case of Eva Braun in particular, it seems clear to me that aside from occasional passionate episodes there was no sexual activity at all for long periods of time. The effect of this on Hitler I do not know, but Eva Braun's misery was well-known at headquarters. During the long dry spells she was irritable, impatient and quick to anger. She smoked much more and was incessantly lighting one cigarette after another. By contrast, when once in a great while Hitler's more human feelings expressed themselves in a sudden cloudburst, her manner changed completely. Eva at such times was radiant, flushed with happiness. Her natural warmth and high spirits returned, and she seemed to sparkle again like the cheerful and spontaneous girl she once was. Though it seems obscene to pity one individual human being with so many millions dead, I do believe that Eva Braun was the loneliest woman I ever knew.”

“I have my own little sense of style. As far as image goes today for a new artist, you'll find that fashion is really important. I wouldn't want to show up for a performance in something that is absolutely the opposite of who I am as an artist.”

“As Emma's final days drew near, she reported a vision in which Joseph came to her. In the dream she put on her bonnet and shawl and went with him: "I did not think that it was anything unusual. I went with him into a [beautiful] mansion, and he showed me through the different apartments." One room was a nursery, and there she saw with joy an infant in the cradle. Emma continued, "I knew my babe, my Don Carlos that was taken from me."Emma sprang forward, caught the child up in her arms, held him to her exultant heart, and wept with joy. Recovered from the overwhelming emotion of once again holding her little one, she turned to Joseph and asked, "Joseph, where are the rest of my children?" He responded, "Emma, be patient and you shall have all of your children."As her vision closed, Emma saw standing by Joseph's side a personage of light, even the Lord Jesus Christ. That vision must have been a final seal of peace upon Emma's heart, writing upon it her precious sealing to Joseph on that beautiful spring day in 1843.A few days later, Emma trembled at the threshold of eternity, surrounded by her loved ones. Suddenly she raised herself up, stretched out her hand, and called, "Joseph! Joseph!" Then, sinking back into her son's arm, she clasped her hands on her chest and was gone. At last they were together once more--Joseph and Emma, hearts twined as one, never to be separated again.”

“She sleeps. And now she wakes each day a little less. And, each day, takes less and less nourishment, as if grudging the least moment of wakefulness, for, from the movement under her eyelids, and the somnolent gestures of her hands and feet, it seems as if her dreams grow more urgent and intense, as if the life she lives in the closed world of dreams is now about to possess her utterly, as if her small, increasingly reluctant wakenings were an interpretation of some more vital existence, so she is loath to spend even those necessary moments of wakefulness with us, wakings strange as her sleepings. Her marvellous fate - a sleep more lifelike than the living, a dream which consumes the world.'And, sir,' concluded Fevvers, in a voice that now took on the sombre, majestic tones of a great organ, 'we do believe . . . her dream will be the coming century.'And, oh, God . . . how frequently she weeps!”