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Chernobyl Quotes

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Chernobyl Quotes

“To be a scientist is to be naive. We are so focused on our search for truth, we fail to consider how few actually want us to find it. But it is always there, whether we see it or not, whether we chose to or not.The truth doesn't care about our needs or wants. It doesn't care about our governments, our ideologies, our religions. It will lie in wait for all time. And this, at last, is the gift of Chernobyl. Where I once would fear the cost of truth, now I only ask. "What is the cost of lies?”

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Author:Valery Legasov (Chernobyl)
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“Somos guerreros. Mi padre, en todo el tiempo que recuerdo, llevó ropa militar, aunque no lo era. Pensar en el dinero era de burgueses; preocuparte por tu propia vida, no patriótico. El estado normal era el hambre. Ellos, nuestros padres, sobrevivieron al desastre, por tanto también nosotros debíamos superarlo. No había otra manera de convertirse en un hombre de verdad. Nos han enseñado a luchar y a sobrevivir bajo cualquier circunstancia. A mí mismo, después del servicio militar, la vida civil me resultaba insulsa. Salíamos en grupo por la noche a la ciudad en busca de emociones fuertes.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“I make my way back whistling. Gerry nods towards Mrs Brady who is standing beside the trolleys. Morning, Mrs Brady, I say cheerfully. I push her provisions out to the car. Things are something terrible, she says. You can't trust anybody. No. It's come to a sorry pass. It has. There's hormones in the beef and tranquillizers in the bacon. There's men with breasts and women with mickeys. All from eating meat. Now. I steer a path between a crowd of people while she keeps step alongside. Can you believe it - they're feeding the pigs Valium. If you boil a bit of bacon you have to lie down afterwards. Dear oh dear. Yes, I nod. The thought of food makes me ill. The pigs are getting depressed in those sheds. If they get depressed they lose weight. So they tranquillize them. Where will it end? I don't know, Mrs Brady, I say. I begin filling the boot. That's why I started buying lamb. Then along came Chernobyl. Now you can't even have lamb stew or you'll light up at night! I swear. And when they've left you with nothing safe to eat, next thing they come along and tell you you can't live in your own house. I haven't heard of that one, Mrs Brady. Listen to me. She took my elbow. It could all happen that you're in your own house and the next thing is there's radiation bubbling under the floorboards. What? It comes right at you through the foundations. Watch the yogurts. Did you hear of that? No. I saw it in the Champion. Did you not see it in the Champion? I might have. No wonder we're not right. I brought the lid of the boot down. She sits into the car very decorously and snaps her bag open on her lap. She winds down the window and gives me 50p for myself and £1 for the trolley.”

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Book:Sudden Times
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“They asked all sorts of questions, but one really cut into my memory. This boy, stammering and blushing, you could tell he was one of the quiet ones, asked: "Why couldn't anyone help the animals?" This was already a person from the future. I couldn't answer that question. Our art is all about the sufferings and loves of people, but not of everything living. We don't descend to their level: animals, plants, that other world. And with Chernobyl man just waved his hand at everything.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“You were sixteen when Chernobyl went up, Ollie.” Sangster recalled the incident. “Yes, and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, just as the other disasters I saw. I see the incidents just hours before they occur and are helpless to prevent it, as the details are usually too vague. No, Rachel, at least consoling the living does not warrant a spell in a straitjacket.”

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Book:Whispers of the Dead
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“We came home. I took off all the clothes that I'd worn there and threw them down the trash chute. I gave my cap to my little son. he really wanted it. And he wore it all the time. Two years later they gave him a diagnosis: a tumor in his brain...You can write the rest of this yourself. I don't want to talk anymore.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“At night I wake up from my mother saying, "Sonny, why aren't you saying anything? You're not asleep, you're lying there with your eyes open. And your light's on." I don't say anything. No one can speak to me in a way I can answer. In my own language. No one can understand where I've come back from. And I can't tell anyone.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“I've wondered why everyone was silent about Chernobyl, why our writers weren't writing much about it -- they write about the war, or the camps, but here they're silent. Why? Do you think it's an accident? If we'd beaten Chernobyl, people would talk about it and write about it more. Or if we'd understood Chernobyl. But we don't know how to capture any meaning from it. We're not capable of it. We can't place it in our human experience or our human time-frame. So what's better, to remember or to forget?”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“I want to make a film, to see everything through the eyes of an animal. "What are you shooting?" people say to me. "Look around you. There's a war on in Chechnya." But Saint Francis preached to the birds. He spoke to them as equals. What if these birds spoke to him in their bird language, and it wasn't he who condescended to them?”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“His friend proposed to me. He'd been in love with me long ago, back when we were in school. Then he married my friend, and then they got divorced. "You'll live like a queen." He owns a store, has a huge apartment in the city, he had a dacha. I thought and thought about it. Then one day he came in drunk: "You're not going to forget your hero, is that it?" He went to Chernobyl, and I refused. I'm alive, and he's a memorial.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“We're afraid of everything. We're afraid for our children, and for our grandchildren, who don't exist yet. They don't exist, and we're already afraid. People smile less, they sing less at holidays. The landscape changes, because instead of fields the forest rises up again, but the national character changes too. Everyone's depressed. It's a feeling of doom. Chernobyl is a metaphor, a symbol. And it's changed our everyday life, and our thinking.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“They wash the windows, the roof, the door, all of it. Then a crane drags the house from its spot and puts it down into the pit. There's dolls and books and cans all scattered around. The excavator picks them up. Then it covers everything with sand and clay, leveling it. And then instead of a village, you have an empty field. They sowed our land with corn. Our house is lying there, and our school and our village council office. My plants are there and two albums of stamps, I was hoping to bring them with me. Also I had a bike.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“We started thinking about it -- I guess it must have been -- three years later. One of the guys got sick, then another. Someone died. Another went insane and killed himself. That's when we started thinking. But we'll only really understand in about 20-30 years. For me, Afghanistan (I was there two years) and then Chernobyl (I was there three months), are the most memorable moments of my life.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“Okay, maybe you could move the ones that were above the earth, but what about the ones who were in the earth -- the bugs and the worms? And the ones in the sky? How do you evacuate a pigeon or a sparrow? What do you do with them? We don't have any way of giving them, the necessary information. It's also a philosophical dilemma. A perestroika of our feelings is happening here.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“We had lead underwear, we wore it over our pants. Write that. We had good jokes, too. Here's one: An American robot is on the roof for five minutes, and then it breaks down. The Japanese robot is on the roof for five minutes, , and then -- breaks down. The Russian robot is up there two hours! Then a command comes in over the loudspeaker: "Private Ivanov! In two hours you're welcome to come down and have a cigarette break." Ha-Ha! [laughs.]”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“They held political discussions with us -- they explained that we were heroes, accomplishing things, on the front line. It was all military language. But what's a bec? A curie? What's a milliroentgen? We ask our commander, he can't answer that, they didn't teach it at the military academy. Milli, micro, it's all Chinese to him. "What do you need to know for? Just do what you're ordered. Here you're soldiers." Yes, soldiers -- but not convicts.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“My prayer is simple. I say it silently. 'Lord, i cry unto me! Give ear!' Man is crafty only in evil, but he's so simple and open in his plain words of love. Even for philosophers, the word is only an approximation of the thought they have experienced. The word genuinely attunes to what's in our soul only in prayer, and in prayerful thoughts. I can feel it physically. 'Lord, I cry unto me! Give ear!' And man too. Man frightens me, but I always like meeting one. A good man. That's it.”

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Author:Svetlana Alexievich
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“Everything we know of horror and dread is connected primarily with war. Stalin's Gulags and Auschwitz were recent gains for evil. History has always been the story of wars and military commanders, and war was, we could say, the yardstick of horror. This is why people muddle the concepts of war and disaster. In Chernobyl, we see all the hallmarks of war: hordes of soldiers, evacuation, abandoned houses. The course of life disrupted. Reports on Chernobyl in the newspapers are thick with the language of war: 'nuclear', 'explosion', 'heroes'. And this makes it harder to appreciate that we now find ourselves on a new page of history. The history of disasters has begun. But people do not want to reflect on that, because they have never thought about it before, preferring to take refuge in the familiar. And in the past. Even the monuments to the Chernobyl heroes look like war memorials.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“The antinuclear sentiments of both leaders were soon strengthened by a man-made nuclear catastrophe that seemed to fit right in with the biblical prophecy of Armageddon that had impressed Reagan so much: 'A great star fell from the sky, flaming like a torch; and it fell on a third of the rivers and springs. The name of the star was Wormwood; and a third of the water turned to wormwood, and men in great numbers died of the water because it was poisoned' [Revelation 8:10]. The Ukrainian word for 'wormwood' is Chernobyl.”

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Book:Down with Big Brother: The Fall of the Soviet Empire
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“To write about that now, when only ten years have gone by. Write about it? I think it's senseless. You can't explain it, you can't understand it. We’ll still try to imagine something that looks like our own lives now. I've tried it and it doesn’t work. The Chernobyl explosion gave us the mythology of Chernobyl. The papers and magazines compete to see who can write the most frightening article. People who weren't there love to be frightened. Everyone read about mushrooms the size of human heads, but no one actually found them. So instead of writing, you should record. Document. Show me a fantasy novel about Chernobyl—there isn't one! Because reality is more fantastic.”

Chernobyl
Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“What is it like, radiation? Maybe they show it in the movies? Have you seen it? Is it white, or what? Some people say it has no color and no smell, and other people say that it’s black. Like earth. But if it’s colorless, then it’s like God. God is everywhere but you can’t see Him. They scare us! The apples are hanging in the garden, the leaves are on the trees, the potatoes are in the fields. I don’t think there was any Chernobyl, they made it up. They tricked people. My sister left with her husband. Not far from here, twenty kilometers. They lived there two months, and the neighbor comes running: ‘Your cow sent radiation to my cow! She’s falling down.’ ‘How’d she send it?’ 'Through the air, that’s how, like dust. It flies.’ 'Just fairy tales! Stories and more stories.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“We came home. I took off all the clothes that I wore in there and threw them down the trash chute. I gave my hat to my little son. He really wanted it. And he wore it all the time. Two years later they gave him a diagnosis: a tumor in his brain… You can write the rest of this yourself. I don’t want to talk anymore.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“—Todo lo que conocemos de los horrores y temores tiene más que ver con la guerra. El gulag estalinista y Auschwitz son recientes adquisiciones del mal. La historia siempre ha sido un relato de guerras y de caudillos, y la guerra constituía, digamos, la medida del horror. Por eso, la gente confunde los conceptos de guerra y catástrofe. En Chernóbil se diría que están presentes todos los rasgos de la guerra: muchos soldados, evacuación, hogares abandonados… Se ha destruido el curso de la vida. Las informaciones sobre Chernóbil están plagadas de términos bélicos: átomo, explosión, héroes… Y esta circunstancia dificulta la comprensión de que nos hallamos ante una nueva historia. Ha empezado la historia de las catástrofes… Pero el hombre no quiere pensar en esto, porque nunca se ha parado a pensar en esto; se esconde tras aquello que le resulta conocido. Tras el pasado. Hasta los monumentos a los héroes de Chernóbil parecen militares.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“Leonid Andréyev, del que ya le he hablado, tiene un relato. Un hombre que vivía en Jerusalén vio un día cómo junto a su casa conducían a Cristo. El hombre lo vio todo y lo oyó, pero entonces le dolía una muela. Ante sus ojos, Cristo cayó al suelo con la cruz a cuestas, cayó y lanzó un grito de dolor. El hombre que veía todo esto no salió de su casa a la calle porque le dolía una muela. Al cabo de dos días, cuando dejó de dolerle la muela, le contaron que Cristo había resucitado y entonces el hombre pensó: «Y yo que podía haber sido testigo del hecho, pero como me dolía la muela…». ¿Será posible que siempre ocurra igual? Los hombres nunca están a la altura de los grandes acontecimientos. Siempre les superan los hechos. Mi padre luchó en la defensa de Moscú en el 42. Pero no comprendió que había participado en un gran acontecimiento hasta pasadas decenas de años. Por los libros, las películas. Él, en cambio, recordaba: «Estaba metido en una trinchera. Disparaba. Quedé enterrado por una explosión. Los enfermeros me sacaron de allí medio vivo». Y nada más.”

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Book:Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster
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“Eloise had been with Dad since before the riots. "As long as I breathe," Dad often said, "Eloise will have a job." She was like a second wife to him. She took care of him during his workday. They argued and fought and got grumpy with each other. There was genuine affection. Mom knew all this. "Thank God Eloise is uglier than a cow living near Chernobyl," Mom liked to say, "or I might wonder.”

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Book:One False Move
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