I have blood from Dutch and Norwegian.

I'm, like, half Norwegian and half Italian.

My father was a Norwegian tenor and my mother a New York Irish librarian.

Though my father was Norwegian, he always wrote his diaries in perfect English.

I'm a bit biased, as I married a Norwegian, but Norway is an incredible country.

Norwegian kids, they grow up well educated in film. So they have a lot of good directors there.

My dad's from Zimbabwe, and my mom is Danish, Irish, and Norwegian, so I have influences from a lot of different places.

I did a Norwegian film called 'Insomnia' that was remade and that was a good remake by a good director, so I'm honoured.

All Norwegian children learn to swim when they are very young because if you can't swim it is difficult to find a place to bathe.

My father was a Norwegian who came from a small town near Oslo. He broke his arm at the elbow when he was 14, and they amputated it.

My father grew up in Brooklyn, N.Y., with my grandparents. In Norwegian my name is pronounced 'Yoo' but my father used to call me 'Joe.'

When you're surrounded by majestic Norwegian nature, it's very easy to start thinking about stuff you don't have time to in everyday life.

I'm 100% Norwegian. Three generations removed and all continuous inbreeding of Norwegian of Minnesota and Iowa, so I traveled to Norway before.

The thing I love about Norwegian cities is that you often have nature right at your doorstep - you don't need to go that far. That makes it a lot easier to just get out.

There is a project that I did back in 2008 with a Norwegian guitar player, Jorn Viggo Lofstad, who plays in Pagan's Mind. We wrote a rock album, and we never released it.

My dad used to be a Greco-Roman wrestler, and he was Norwegian champion six years on the bounce from 1966 to 1971. But I never saw him wrestle. I've only read the clippings.

I think what I came through is great, but my son can take it to another level, not having to fight racism. His mother's a Norwegian and I'm mixed up four or five times, so he can face the world.

People thought me a bit strange at first; a blond haired, blue-eyed Norwegian who sang Mexican folk songs, but I used it to my advantage and got a job. And so the music became my ticket to education.

In 1881, my dad's grandparents, who were Norwegian farmers, immigrated to the United States - the same year my great grandfather from Laguna Pueblo was put on a train to Carlisle Indian School in Pennsylvania.

I am no friend of the modern so-called 'black metal' culture. It is a tasteless, lowbrow parody of Norwegian black metal circa 1991-92, and if it was up to me, it would meet its dishonorable end as soon as possible.

A Shakespeare could have arisen only on English soil. In the same way, your great dramatists and poets express the nature and essence of the Norwegian people, but they also express that which is universally valid for all mankind.

China is our largest trading partner in Asia. The normalization of our relations will create major opportunities for Norwegian businesses and for job creation. We also hope to resume negotiations on a free trade agreement with China.

Personally, I am a nationalist, but my race is my nation, and I see all true Europeans as my racial brethren and part of my nation, be them Norwegian, Danish, or Swedish, French, German, or English, Russian, Polish, or Belorussian, or whatever.

My impression, having been in the Norwegian government for several years, is that taking a child into care is an extremely serious decision which is really taken as a last resort, when the situation warrants it, for the well-being of the children.

My main problem with Norwegian Black Metal is that almost all the bands from 1992-1993 are made up of rats, who ratted each other out and blamed me for everything that went wrong in the scene. I really don't want to be associated with them in any way.

I'm a half-breed. You know, I'm Puerto Rican and Norwegian from descent, and I grew up, born and raised in New York City, and I stood out amongst my friends in my community. I was very blond-haired, white, and 'Lemonhead' was the name that they gave me.

Many Scandinavian writers who had made their name in literary fiction felt they wanted to have a go at the crime novel to show they could compete with the best. If Salman Rushdie had been Norwegian, he would definitely have written at least one thriller.

Well, I have a Norwegian father who emigrated to America in the 1950s, and he still speaks with varying degrees of an accent. Over my lifetime my ear has been well-tuned to that accent. Any first generation kid has that wonderful gift from their parents.

My Norwegian wife Aase was a Pan Am stewardess back in the Seventies when we met. She was very attractive, and we became good friends, but I was travelling a lot and she was jetting back and forth across the Atlantic, so it was a while before we got together.

There's a Norwegian equivalent to 'BBC Introducing' called 'P3 Untouched,' and I remember when they played the first song I ever wrote that I'd put online. I was 16 at that point. That was the first moment where I was like, 'Oh, maybe this is something I want to do more of.'

Bass Weejuns are the Cordovan black or brown penny loafers originally called Norwegian Loafers, hence their name. Worn without socks in the spring and summer, they must be kept to a high-gloss polish and should become burnished with wax over time until they have a fine patina.

I think it was John who really urged me to play sitar on 'Norwegian Wood,' which was the first time we used it. Now, Paul has just asked me recently whether I'd written any more of those 'Indian type of tunes.' He suddenly likes them now. But at the time, he wouldn't play on them.

Tarjei Vesaas has written the best Norwegian novel ever, 'The Birds' - it is absolutely wonderful: the prose is so simple and so subtle, and the story is so moving that it would have been counted amongst the great classics from the last century if it had been written in one of the major languages.

Even after he was gone, I still loved my father. I looked Norwegian, like him, with a long face, strong jaw, thin mouth, and flashing eyes. And, like him, I was verbal, easygoing, and low-key on the surface, and, deep down, proud, socially paranoid, full of self-loathing, and prone to rage at injustice.

It is a sad but undeniable reality that people have died in the line of duty since the earliest days of the United Nations. The first was Ole Bakke, a Norwegian member of the United Nations guard detachment, shot and killed in Palestine in 1948. The toll since then has included colleagues at all levels.

It wouldn't matter whether you were Latino or Hispanic or Norwegian. If you didn't have proof of citizenship and if the police officer had reasonable suspicion, he would ask and verify your citizenship. I mean, that's the way that it is. That's what the federal law says. And that's what the law in Arizona says.

A play is basically a long, formalistic polemic. You can write it without the poetry, and if you do, you may have a pretty good play. We know this because we see plays in translation. Not many people speak Norwegian or Danish or whatever guys like Ibsen spoke, or Russian - yet we understand Chekhov and the others.

At nineteen I was pretty sure I was going to be a professional soccer player. At that time I played for one of the Norwegian premier leagues. But I tore ligaments in both knees, so I started studying business administration and economics and became a financial analyst, and I worked at a brokerage firm as a stockbroker.

If there is any hope that we in America might one day overcome our own history of genocide, slavery, discrimination, and oppression and create a justice system that is truly a source of international pride rather than shame, I suspect Rwanda may have as much to teach us about what is required as any tour of a Norwegian prison.

I am honored to be named Godfather for Norwegian Bliss. This incredible ship and all the innovative activities onboard, from the race track to Broadway shows, perfectly reflect the energy and excitement of our morning show, and we are looking forward to bringing our loyal listeners along for this once-in-a-lifetime experience.

When I was 23, my Norwegian relatives taught me how to sit still. During the long sunlit evenings in the summer of 1992, my cousins would lead me across the farm to the edge of the forest, each of us lugging a folding chair. There, in a scraggly bramble of wild blueberries, we would set them down a few yards apart, each in our own little patch.

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