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Random Renaissance Era Quotes (Well, mostly)
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Timeline of the Renaissance Period

This timeline is subjective because there is no universal agreement on exactly when the Renaissance started or when the Renaissance ended.

Also, please note that sometimes historical records are vague or non existent so some of the dates are approximate or speculative.

1209-1255 The Albigensian Crusades

1260 Nicola Pisano decorates the Pisa Bapistry

1291Acre falls to the Mamlukes who slaughter everyone inside the city.

1297 Battle of Sterling Bridge: Braveheart fame

1298 Battle of Falkirk: Death of W. Wallace

1302 Dante begins the “Divine Comedy”

1307 The Templar roundup by Philip IV , beginning of the end of the order.

1311 Duccio uses perspective in Siena

1314 Battle of Bannockburn

1334 Giotto is put in charge of public works in Florence

1338 Edward III’s claim to throne of France causes Hundred Years’ War.

1341 Petrarch is crowned “Poet Laureate” in Rome

1346 Edward III’s son the Black Prince wins victory over French at Crecy.

1353 Boccaccio’s “Decameron” is published

1356 Black Prince defeats and captures French King Jean II at Poitiers.

1386 Chaucer begins his “Canterbury Tales”

1390 Cennino Cennini’s “book of Painting”

1401 Ghiberti wins the competition for the Florence Baptistry doors

1402-1403 Richard III campaigns in Scotland and Wales

1410 Battle of Grunwald: took place between the Kingdom of Poland, the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and their allies on one side, and the Knights of the Teutonic Order on the other.

1415 Henry V wins great victory over French at Agincourt.

1417-1436 Brunellischi creates the dome of Florence Cathedral

1429 Joan of Arc leads French to break English siege of Orleans.

1435 The Medici family dynasty begins in France

1450 Alberts begins his treatise on architecture

1455 First printed book, the Gutenberg Bible is published

1455 Wars of the Roses

1465 Giovanni Bellini and Mantegna both paint versions of “The Agony in the Garden”

1470-1480 Oil painting reached Italy

1479-1488 Verrocchio’s equestrian statue of Colleoni

1480 Botticelli’s “Primavera”

1494 Charles VIII of France invades Italy

1498 Erasmus visits England

1497-1500 Michelangelo’s “Pieta”

1500 Giorgione’s “Tempesta”

1504-1505 Leonardo da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa”

1505-1507 Durer in Venice

1512 Raphael’s “Sistine Madonna”

1513 Machiavelli begins “The Prince”

1516 Leonardo da Vinci goes to France

1517 Luther begins the Protestant Reformation

1525 Battle of Pavia

1533 Titian is appointed court painter to Emperor Charles V

1563 Final session of Council of Trent

1564 Death of Michelangelo

1588 Death of Veronese

1594 Death of Tontoretto

A touch of “Swan Song” and a dash of “The Stand”…Very good post-apocalyptic tale in the mode and mood of R. McCammon’s “Swan Song” and S. King’s “The Stand”. ★★★★★

Excerpt from Troop of Shadows:

Colleyville, Texas

Dani cursed the weight of her backpack. The final two items from the ransacked Walgreens, crammed in as an afterthought ten minutes ago, might cost her everything. After surviving the last twelve months of hell only to be thwarted now by a can of Similac and a twelve-pack of Zest soap, would be sadly anticlimactic. Despite running at a full sprint down a dark suburban street, dodging overflowing garbage cans while eluding three men who would steal her hard-won tubes of Neosporin and likely rape and kill her in the process, she snorted at the thought of a fictional headline: Young Woman’s Life Ends Tragically but Zestfully Clean.

Damn it, she would ditch the backpack. She could come back tomorrow night for it, but right now staying alive outweighed any future benefit its contents might provide. As her pursuers rounded the corner behind her, she darted across the front lawn of a house and leaped over a cluster of dead juniper shrubs. A year ago, those shrubs had been green, manicured, and providing curb appeal to the upscale neighborhood; they functioned now as a hurdle component in the obstacle course Dani navigated on most nights.

She angled toward the side of the house and around the corner, only to come to an abrupt stop next to a six-foot barricade. Residents of these sprawling bedroom communities situated between Dallas and Fort Worth clung to their privacy fences as fiercely as their rural counterparts did to their firearms. Why all those day-trading dads and cheerleader moms required such secrecy was beyond Dani. She didn’t care. All that mattered was how difficult they made her nightly forages. Only idiots or people with a death wish traveled alone on the streets anymore. The clever ones navigated through backyards and drainage ditches, shadowed easements and alleyway, avoiding open spaces and other humans.

Especially humans traveling in groups.

Stealth and caution were second nature to her now, and she was pissed at herself for loading up the backpack with more weight than she could easily carry at a full run.

Rookie mistake.

She flung the pack into the undergrowth of a once meticulous garden, making a mental note of the enormous red tip photinia which camouflaged the bundle in a leafy shroud. She hoped to be alive the next day to retrieve it.

She clambered up the fence, finding a toehold on a warped plank, and squirmed over the top. A silver fingernail of a moon did little to illuminate the backyard. Weak starlight reflected off the inky surface of a half-empty, kidney-shaped swimming pool. Her Nikes gripped the concrete deck as she skirted the murky water and made a beeline for the back of the yard that was, of course, separated from its neighbor by a privacy fence. It was a tall one too — a full ten feet. There were no bushes or trees to use for leverage either. She scanned the area for anything that might serve as a step ladder.

Of all the yards she could have chosen for her escape, she’d picked one with a damn ten-foot fence.

Her heart raced from the sprint, but not from panic. Gone was the young woman from a year ago, the full-time floundering college dropout and part-time surly Starbucks barista who spent too much time reading books and not enough time looking for a job that would allow her to move out of her parents’ house. She was too smart for her own good, everyone had told her. She should have taken that secretarial position in North Dallas, but she would have lost her sanity in that environment. The tedious filing, the ringing phones, the office politics — in other words, hell on earth for a girl with an IQ over a hundred and fifty.

Despite the recent horrors, she’d come into her own at last, after twenty-one years of meandering through life unfocused and unchallenged. The extra twenty pounds she’d been carrying courtesy of Freddy’s cheeseburgers and Taco Bell burritos were gone, thanks to her newfound self-discipline and endless hours of Krav Maga training with Sam. Not only had she transformed her body, she’d elevated and strengthened her mind as well. Before the power had gone out, she’d watched countless tutorials on T’ai Chi, Qigong, and Buddhist meditation. During that same window — when people were beginning to get sick, but before most of them had died — she’d combed book stores and libraries within a fifteen-mile radius. When the country went dark and people realized that life-saving information was no longer available with a few keystrokes, Dani had amassed reference material on subjects as diverse as hydroponics and combat first aid, ancient meat drying techniques and bomb making. Between martial arts lessons with Sam, she spent every spare minute absorbing the printed esoteric knowledge like a greedy lizard on a sun-drenched rock.

Knowledge was survival.

When the first of the men slithered over the fence into the backyard, she hadn’t found anything to use as a foothold. Another figure followed behind him. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and released it from her lungs, slow and measured, then took off at a full run toward them. While she ran, fingers slid down to a leather sheath secured to her belt. Two seconds before she reached the first of her would-be assailants, a Ka-Bar — the grandaddy of tactical knives — was in her hand.

Dani used momentum and every ounce of her one-hundred-twenty pound frame to slam the first man into the second, knocking both assailants off-balance and unprepared for her next move: a vicious stab to the groin of the first. He collapsed to his knees. She followed with a backhand movement, opening up the throat of his companion. A similar gesture to the man with the injured groin silenced his moaning.

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