Herbert Mason
Herbert Mason
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Full Name and Common Aliases
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Herbert Mason was a renowned British journalist and war correspondent who went by the name "Mick" to his friends and colleagues.
Birth and Death Dates
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Born on February 12, 1894, in London, England, Herbert Mason passed away on May 23, 1980 at the age of 86.
Nationality and Profession(s)
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Herbert Mason was a British national by birth and profession. He was primarily known as a journalist and war correspondent, but he also worked as an author and editor throughout his career.
Early Life and Background
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Mason's early life was marked by tragedy when his mother died at a young age. His father, however, remarried, and Mason grew up with two half-brothers in a household that valued education and social activism. These formative years instilled in him a strong sense of purpose and empathy for others.
Major Accomplishments
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Mason's illustrious career as a journalist spanned several decades, during which he reported from some of the most pivotal events of the 20th century. He covered World War I, serving on the front lines and witnessing firsthand the horrors of trench warfare. Mason also reported on World War II, working for various publications including the _Daily Mirror_.
Notable Works or Actions
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Some of Mason's notable works include his books "The Mystery of the White Horse" (1925) and "Death in Spain" (1954). These writings showcased his mastery of storytelling and ability to engage readers with compelling narratives. In addition, Mason was recognized for his exceptional reporting on the Spanish Civil War.
Impact and Legacy
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Herbert Mason's impact on journalism extends far beyond his own accomplishments. His bravery and dedication inspired generations of war correspondents and journalists who followed in his footsteps. Through his writings, Mason shed light on some of history's darkest moments, humanizing the experiences of those caught up in conflict.
Why They Are Widely Quoted or Remembered
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Mason is widely quoted for his insightful commentary on the complexities of war and its effects on individuals and society as a whole. His writings often conveyed a sense of empathy and understanding that resonated with readers worldwide. Even today, Mason's words continue to offer valuable insights into the human condition, reminding us of the importance of compassion, integrity, and honest reporting.
In conclusion, Herbert Mason was a remarkable individual whose life's work continues to influence and inspire others in the fields of journalism and literature. Through his unwavering dedication to storytelling and commitment to social justice, Mason left behind a lasting legacy that remains relevant today.
Quotes by Herbert Mason
Everything had life to me,’ he heard Enkidu murmur, ’the sky, the storm, the earth, water, wandering, the moon and its three children, salt, even my hand had life. It’s gone. It’s gone.
He entered the city asked a blind man if he had ever heard the name Enkidu, and the old man shrugged and shook his head, then turned away, as if to say, ‘It is impossible to keep the names of friends whom we have lost.
What we finally do, out of desperation... is go on an impossible, or even forbidden, journey or pilgrimage, which from a rational point of view is futile: to find the one wise man, whomever or wherever he may be; and to find from him the secret of eternal life or the secret of adjusting to this life as best we can.
Gilgamesh was called a god and a man; Enkidu was an animal and a man. It is the story of their becoming human together.
He entered the city asked a blind man if he had ever heard the name Enkidu, and the old man shrugged and shook his head, then turned away, as if to say, ‘It is impossible to keep the names of friends whom we have lost
What we finally do, out of desperation ... is go on an impossible, or even forbidden, journey or pilgrimage, which from a rational point of view is futile: to find the one wise man, whomever or wherever he may be; and to find from him the secret of eternal life or the secret of adjusting to this life as best we can.
All that is left to one who grievesIs convalescence. No change of heart or spiritualConversion, for the heart has changedAnd the soul has been convertedTo a thing that seesHow much it costs to lose a friend it loved.
It could go on for years and years,And has, for centuries,For being human holds a special griefOf privacy within the universeThat yearns and waits to be retouchedBy someone who can take awayThe memory of death.
You have known, O Gilgamesh,What interests me,To drink from the Well of Immortality.Which means to make the deadRise from their gravesAnd the prisoners from their cellsThe sinners from their sins.I think love's kiss kills our heart of flesh.It is the only way to eternal life,Which should be unbearable if livedAmong the dying flowersAnd the shrieking farewellsOf the overstretched arms of our spoiled hopes.
Friendship is vowing toward immortality and does not know the passing away of beauty (Though take care!) because it aims for the spirit. Many years ago through loss I learned that love is wrung from our inmost heart until only the loved one is and we are not.