Biography of Hans Bethe

German-American physicist Hans Albrecht Bethe (pronounced BAY-tah) was born on July 2, 1906. He made key contributions to the field of nuclear physics and helped to develop the hydrogen bomb and the  atomic bomb used in World War II. He died on March 6, 2005. Early Years Hans Bethe was born on July 2, 1906 in Strasbourg, Alsace-Lorraine. He was the only child of Anna and Albrecht Bethe, the latter of whom worked as a physiologist at the University of Strasbourg. As a child, Hans Bethe showed an early aptitude for mathematics and often read his fathers calculus and trigonometry books. The family moved to Frankfurt when Albrecht Bethe took a new position at the Institute of Physiology at the  University of Frankfurt am Main. Hans Bethe attended secondary school at Goethe-Gymnasium  in  Frankfurt until he contracted tuberculosis in 1916. He took some time off school to recover before graduating in 1924. Bethe went on to study at the University of Frankfurt for two years before transferring to the University of Munich  so that he could study theoretical physics under German physicist Arnold Sommerfeld. Bethe earned his PhD in 1928. He worked as an assistant professor at the University of Tubingen and later worked as a lecturer at the University of Manchester after immigrating to England in 1933. Bethe moved to the United States in 1935 and took a job as a professor at Cornell University. Marriage and Family Hans Bethe married Rose Ewald, the daughter of German physicist Paul Ewald, in 1939. They had two children, Henry and Monica, and eventually, three grandchildren. Scientific Contributions From 1942 to 1945, Hans Bethe served as the director of the theoretical division at Los Alamos where he worked on the Manhattan Project, a team effort to assemble the worlds first atomic bomb. His work was instrumental in calculating the bombs explosive yield. In 1947 Bethe contributed to the development of quantum electrodynamics by being the first scientist to explain the Lamb-shift in the hydrogen spectrum.  At the beginning of the Korean War, Bethe worked on another war-related project and helped to develop a hydrogen bomb. In 1967, Bethe was awarded a Nobel Prize in Physics for his revolutionary work in stellar nucleosynthesis. This work offered insight into the ways in which stars produce energy. Bethe also developed a theory related to inelastic collisions, which helped nuclear physicists understand the stopping power of matter for fast charged particles. Some of his other contributions include work on solid-state theory and a theory of the order and disorder in alloys. Late in life, when Bethe was in his mid-90s, he continued to contribute to research in astrophysics by publishing papers on supernovae, neutron stars,  black holes. Death Hans Bethe retired in 1976 but studied astrophysics and served as the John Wendell Anderson Emeritus Professor of Physics Emeritus at  Cornell University  until his death. He died of congestive heart failure on March 6, 2005 at his home in Ithaca, New York. He was 98 years old. Impact and Legacy Hans Bethe was the  head theoretician on the Manhattan Project  and was a key contributor to the atomic bombs that killed more than 100,000 people and wounded even more when they were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki during  World War II. Bethe also helped to develop the hydrogen bomb, despite the fact that he was opposed to the development of this type of weapon. For more than 50 years, Bethe strongly advised caution in using the power of the atom. He supported  nuclear nonproliferation treaties and frequently spoke out against missile defense systems. Bethe also advocated for the use of national laboratories to develop technologies that would lower the risk of nuclear war rather than weapons that could win a nuclear war. Hans Bethes legacy lives on today. Many of the discoveries that he made in nuclear physics and astrophysics during his 70 year career have stood the test of time, and scientists are still using and building upon his work to make progress in theoretical physics and  quantum mechanics. Famous Quotes Hans Bethe was a key contributor to the atomic bomb used in World War II as well as the hydrogen bomb. He also spent a significant portion of his life advocating for nuclear disarmament. So, it is really no surprise that he was often asked about his contributions and the potential for nuclear war in the future. Here are some of his most famous quotes on the topic: When I started participating in thermonuclear work in the summer of 1950, I was hoping to prove that thermonuclear weapons could not be made. If this could have been proved convincingly, this would of course have applied to both the Russians and ourselves and would have given greater security to both sides than we can now ever achieve. It was possible to entertain such a hope until the spring of 1951, when it suddenly became clear that it was no longer tenable.If we fight a war and win it with H-bombs, what history will remember is not the ideals we were fighting for but the methods we used to accomplish them. These methods will be compared to the warfare of Genghis Khan who ruthlessly killed every last inhabitant of Persia.Today the arms race is a long-range problem. The Second World War was a short-range problem, and in the short range I think it was essential to make the atomic bomb. However, not much thought was given to the time after the bomb. At first, the work was too absorbi ng, and we wanted to get the job done. But I think that once it was made it had its own impulse - its own motion that could not be stopped.Today we are rightly in an era of disarmament and dismantlement of nuclear weapons. But in some countries nuclear weapons development still continues. Whether and when the various Nations of the World can agree to stop this is uncertain. But individual scientists can still influence this process by withholding their skills.  Accordingly, I call on all scientists in all countries to cease and desist from work creating, developing, improving and manufacturing further nuclear weapons - and, for that matter, other weapons of potential mass destruction such as chemical and biological weapons.   Hans Bethe Fast Facts Full Name:  Hans Albrecht Bethe  Occupation: PhysicistBorn: July 2, 1906 in  Strasbourg, Germany (now Strasbourg, France)Died: March 6, 2005 in Ithaca, New York, USAEducation: Goethe University Frankfurt,  Ludwig Maximilian University of MunichKey Accomplishment: Received the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1967 for his work in  stellar nucleosynthesis. Served as head theoretician on the Manhattan Project.  Spouses Name: Rose EwaldChildrens Names: Henry Bethe,  Monica Bethe Bibliography Broad, William J. â€Å"HANS BETHE CONFRONTS THE LEGACY OF HIS BOMB.†Ã‚  The New York Times, The New York Times, 11 June 1984, www.nytimes.com/1984/06/12/science/hans-bethe-confronts-the-legacy-of-his-bomb.html?pagewantedall.Broad, William J. â€Å"Hans Bethe, Prober of Sunlight and Atomic Energy, Dies at 98.†Ã‚  The New York Times, The New York Times, 8 Mar. 2005, www.nytimes.com/2005/03/08/science/hans-bethe-prober-of-sunlight-and-atomic-energy-dies-at-98.html.Gibbs, W. Wayt. â€Å"Hans Albrecht Bethe, 1906-2005.†Ã‚  Scientific American, 1 May 2005, www.scientificamerican.com/article/hans-albrecht-bethe-1906-2005/.â€Å"Hans Bethe.†Ã‚  Atomic Heritage Foundation, 2 July 1906, www.atomicheritage.org/profile/hans-bethe.â€Å"Hans Bethe - Biographical.†Ã‚  Nobelprize.org, www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/physics/laureates/1967/bethe-bio.html.Irion, Robert. â€Å"A Towering Physicists Legacy Faces a Threatening Future.†Ã‚  Science, American Asso ciation for the Advancement of Science, 7 July 2006, science.sciencemag.org/content/313/5783/39.full?rss1.

Essay Topics International Relations Options

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A Game of Thrones Chapter Forty-four Free Essays

string(107) " no one came forward, so he gave this Yoren his pick of the king’s dungeons and sent him on his way\." Sansa He wouldn’t send Ser Loras,† Sansa told Jeyne Poole that night as they shared a cold supper by lamplight. â€Å"I think it was because of his leg.† Lord Eddard had taken his supper in his bedchamber with Alyn, Harwin, and Vayon Poole, the better to rest his broken leg, and Septa Mordane had complained of sore feet after standing in the gallery all day. We will write a custom essay sample on A Game of Thrones Chapter Forty-four or any similar topic only for you Order Now Arya was supposed to join them, but she was late coming back from her dancing lesson. â€Å"His leg?† Jeyne said uncertainly. She was a pretty, dark-haired girl of Sansa’s own age. â€Å"Did Ser Loras hurt his leg?† â€Å"Not his leg,† Sansa said, nibbling delicately at a chicken leg. â€Å"Father’s leg, silly. It hurts him ever so much, it makes him cross. Otherwise I’m certain he would have sent Ser Loras.† Her father’s decision still bewildered her. When the Knight of Flowers had spoken up, she’d been sure she was about to see one of Old Nan’s stories come to life. Ser Gregor was the monster and Ser Loras the true hero who would slay him. He even looked a true hero, so slim and beautiful, with golden roses around his slender waist and his rich brown hair tumbling down into his eyes. And then Father had refused him! It had upset her more than she could tell. She had said as much to Septa Mordane as they descended the stairs from the gallery, but the septa had only told her it was not her place to question her lord father’s decisions. That was when Lord Baelish had said, â€Å"Oh, I don’t know, Septa. Some of her lord father’s decisions could do with a bit of questioning. The young lady is as wise as she is lovely.† He made a sweeping bow to Sansa, so deep she was not quite sure if she was being complimented or mocked. Septa Mordane had been very upset to realize that Lord Baelish had overheard them. â€Å"The girl was just talking, my lord,† she’d said. â€Å"Foolish chatter. She meant nothing by the comment.† Lord Baelish stroked his little pointed beard and said, â€Å"Nothing? Tell me, child, why would you have sent Ser Loras?† Sansa had no choice but to explain about heroes and monsters. The king’s councillor smiled. â€Å"Well, those are not the reasons I’d have given, but . . . † He had touched her cheek, his thumb lightly tracing the line of a cheekbone. â€Å"Life is not a song, sweetling. You may learn that one day to your sorrow.† Sansa did not feel like telling all that to Jeyne, however; it made her uneasy just to think back on it. â€Å"Ser Ilyn’s the King’s Justice, not Ser Loras,† Jcyne said. â€Å"Lord Eddard should have sent him.† Sansa shuddered. Every time she looked at Ser Ilyn Payne, she shivered. He made her feel as though something dead were slithering over her naked skin. â€Å"Ser Ilyn’s almost like a second monster. I’m glad Father didn’t pick him.† â€Å"Lord Beric is as much a hero as Ser Loras. He’s ever so brave and gallant.† â€Å"I suppose,† Sansa said doubtfully. Beric Dondarrion was handsome enough, but he was awfully old, almost twenty-two; the Knight of Flowers would have been much better. Of course, Jeyne had been in love with Lord Beric ever since she had first glimpsed him in the lists. Sansa thought she was being silly; Jeyne was only a steward’s daughter, after all, and no matter how much she mooned after him, Lord Beric would never look at someone so far beneath him, even if she hadn’t been half his age. It would have been unkind to say so, however, so Sansa took a sip of milk and changed the subject. â€Å"I had a dream that Joffrey would be the one to take the white hart,† she said. It had been more of a wish, actually, but it sounded better to call it a dream. Everyone knew that dreams were prophetic. White harts were supposed to be very rare and magical, and in her heart she knew her gallant prince was worthier than his drunken father. â€Å"A dream? Truly? Did Prince Joffrey just go up to it and touch it with his bare hand and do it no harm?† â€Å"No,† Sansa said. â€Å"He shot it with a golden arrow and brought it back for me.† In the songs, the knights never killed magical beasts, they just went up to them and touched them and did them no harm, but she knew Joffrey liked hunting, especially the killing part. Only animals, though. Sansa was certain her prince had no part in murdering Jory and those other poor men; that had been his wicked uncle, the Kingslayer. She knew her father was still angry about that, but it wasn’t fair to blame Joff. That would be like blaming her for something that Arya had done. â€Å"I saw your sister this afternoon,† Jeyne blurted out, as if she’d been reading Sansa’s thoughts. â€Å"She was walking through the stables on her hands. Why would she do a thing like that?† â€Å"I’m sure I don’t know why Arya does anything.† Sansa hated stables, smelly places full of manure and flies. Even when she went riding, she liked the boy to saddle the horse and bring it to her in the yard. â€Å"Do you want to hear about the court or not?† â€Å"I do,† Jeyne said. â€Å"There was a black brother,† Sansa said, â€Å"begging men for the Wall, only he was kind of old and smelly.† She hadn’t liked that at all. She had always imagined the Night’s Watch to be men like Uncle Benjen. In the songs, they were called the black knights of the Wall. But this man had been crookbacked and hideous, and he looked as though he might have lice. If this was what the Night’s Watch was truly like, she felt sorry for her bastard half brother, Jon. â€Å"Father asked if there were any knights in the hall who would do honor to their houses by taking the black, but no one came forward, so he gave this Yoren his pick of the king’s dungeons and sent him on his way. You read "A Game of Thrones Chapter Forty-four" in category "Essay examples" And later these two brothers came before him, freeriders from the Dornish Marches, and pledged their swords to the service of the king. Father accepted their oaths . . . â€Å" Jeyne yawned. â€Å"Are there any lemon cakes?† Sansa did not like being interrupted, but she had to admit, lemon cakes sounded more interesting than most of what had gone on in the throne room. â€Å"Let’s see,† she said. The kitchen yielded no lemon cakes, but they did find half of a cold strawberry pie, and that was almost as good. They ate it on the tower steps, giggling and gossiping and sharing secrets, and Sansa went to bed that night feeling almost as wicked as Arya. The next morning she woke before first light and crept sleepily to her window to watch Lord Beric form up his men. They rode out as dawn was breaking over the city, with three banners going before them; the crowned stag of the king flew from the high staff, the direwolf of Stark and Lord Beric’s own forked lightning standard from shorter poles. It was all so exciting, a song come to life; the clatter of swords, the flicker of torchlight, banners dancing in the wind, horses snorting and whinnying, the golden glow of sunrise slanting through the bars of the portcullis as it jerked upward. The Winterfell men looked especially fine in their silvery mail and long grey cloaks. Alyn carried the Stark banner. When she saw him rein in beside Lord Beric to exchange words, it made Sansa feel ever so proud. Alyn was handsomer than Jory had been; he was going to be a knight one day. The Tower of the Hand seemed so empty after they left that Sansa was even pleased to see Arya when she went down to break her fast. â€Å"Where is everyone?† her sister wanted to know as she ripped the skin from a blood orange. â€Å"Did Father send them to hunt down Jaime Lannister?† Sansa sighed. â€Å"They rode with Lord Beric, to behead Ser Gregor Clegane.† She turned to Septa Mordane, who was eating porridge with a wooden spoon. â€Å"Septa, will Lord Beric spike Ser Gregor’s head on his own gate or bring it back here for the king?† She and Jeyne Poole had been arguing over that last night. The septa was horror-struck. â€Å"A lady does not discuss such things over her porridge. Where are your courtesies, Sansa? I swear, of late you’ve been near as bad as your sister.† â€Å"What did Gregor do?† Arya asked. â€Å"He burned down a holdfast and murdered a lot of people, women and children too.† Arya screwed up her face in a scowl. â€Å"Jaime Lannister murdered Jory and Heward and Wyl, and the Hound murdered Mycah. Somebody should have beheaded them.† â€Å"It’s not the same,† Sansa said. â€Å"The Hound is Joffrey’s sworn shield. Your butcher’s boy attacked the prince.† â€Å"Liar,† Arya said. Her hand clenched the blood orange so hard that red juice oozed between her fingers. â€Å"Go ahead, call me all the names you want,† Sansa said airily. â€Å"You won’t dare when I’m married to Joffrey. You’ll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace.† She shrieked as Arya flung the orange across the table. It caught her in the middle of the forehead with a wet squish and plopped down into her lap. â€Å"You have juice on your face, Your Grace,† Arya said. It was running down her nose and stinging her eyes. Sansa wiped it away with a napkin. When she saw what the fruit in her lap had done to her beautiful ivory silk dress, she shrieked again. â€Å"You’re horrible,† she screamed at her sister. â€Å"They should have killed you instead of Lady!† Septa Mordane came lurching to her feet. â€Å"Your lord father will hear of this! Go to your chambers, at once. At once!† â€Å"Me too?† Tears welled in Sansa’s eyes. â€Å"That’s not fair.† â€Å"The matter is not subject to discussion. Go!† Sansa stalked away with her head up. She was to be a queen, and queens did not cry. At least not where people could see. When she reached her bedchamber, she barred the door and took off her dress. The blood orange had left a blotchy red stain on the silk. â€Å"I hate her!† she screamed. She balled up the dress and flung it into the cold hearth, on top of the ashes of last night’s fire. When she saw that the stain had bled through onto her underskirt, she began to sob despite herself. She ripped off the rest of her clothes wildly, threw herself into bed, and cried herself back to sleep. It was midday when Septa Mordane knocked upon her door. â€Å"Sansa. Your lord father will see you now.† Sansa sat up. â€Å"Lady,† she whispered. For a moment it was as if the direwolf was there in the room, looking at her with those golden eyes, sad and knowing. She had been dreaming, she realized. Lady was with her, and they were running together, and . . . and . . . trying to remember was like trying to catch the rain with her fingers. The dream faded, and Lady was dead again. â€Å"Sansa.† The rap came again, sharply. â€Å"Do you hear me?† â€Å"Yes, Septa,† she called out. â€Å"Might I have a moment to dress, please?† Her eyes were red from crying, but she did her best to make herself beautiful. Lord Eddard was bent over a huge leather-bound book when Septa Mordane marched her into the solar, his plaster-wrapped leg stiff beneath the table. â€Å"Come here, Sansa,† he said, not unkindly, when the septa had gone for her sister. â€Å"Sit beside me.† He closed the book. Septa Mordane returned with Arya squirming in her grasp. Sansa had put on a lovely pale green damask gown and a look of remorse, but her sister was still wearing the ratty leathers and roughspun she’d worn at breakfast. â€Å"Here is the other one,† the septa announced. â€Å"My thanks, Septa Mordane. I would talk to my daughters alone, if you would be so kind.† The septa bowed and left. â€Å"Arya started it,† Sansa said quickly, anxious to have the first word. â€Å"She called me a liar and threw an orange at me and spoiled my dress, the ivory silk, the one Queen Cersei gave me when I was betrothed to Prince Joffrey. She hates that I’m going to marry the prince. She tries to spoil everything, Father, she can’t stand for anything to be beautiful or nice or splendid.† â€Å"Enough, Sansa.† Lord Eddard’s voice was sharp with impatience. Arya raised her eyes. â€Å"I’m sorry, Father. I was wrong and I beg my sweet sister’s forgiveness.† Sansa was so startled that for a moment she was speechless. Finally she found her voice. â€Å"What about my dress?† â€Å"Maybe . . . I could wash it,† Arya said doubtfully. â€Å"Washing won’t do any good,† Sansa said. â€Å"Not if you scrubbed all day and all night. The silk is ruined.† â€Å"Then I’ll . . . make you a new one,† Arya said. Sansa threw back her head in disdain. â€Å"You? You couldn’t sew a dress fit to clean the pigsties.† Their father sighed. â€Å"I did not call you here to talk of dresses. I’m sending you both back to Winterfell.† For the second time Sansa found herself too stunned for words. She felt her eyes grow moist again. â€Å"You can’t,† Arya said. â€Å"Please, Father,† Sansa managed at last. â€Å"Please don’t.† Eddard Stark favored his daughters with a tired smile. â€Å"At last we’ve found something you agree on.† â€Å"I didn’t do anything wrong,† Sansa pleaded with him. â€Å"I don’t want to go back.† She loved Mng’s Landing; the pagaentry of the court, the high lords and ladies in their velvets and silks and gemstones, the great city with all its people. The tournament had been the most magical time of her whole life, and there was so much she had not seen yet, harvest feasts and masked balls and mummer shows. She could not bear the thought of losing it all. â€Å"Send Arya away, she started it, Father, I swear it. I’ll be good, you’ll see, just let me stay and I promise to be as fine and noble and courteous as the queen.† Father’s mouth twitched strangely. â€Å"Sansa, I’m not sending you away for fighting, though the gods know I’m sick of you two squabbling. I want you back in Winterfell for your own safety. Three of my men were cut down like dogs not a league from where we sit, and what does Robert do? He goes hunting.† Arya was chewing at her lip in that disgusting way she had. â€Å"Can we take Syrio back with us?† â€Å"Who cares about your stupid dancing master?† Sansa flared. â€Å"Father, I only just now remembered, I can’t go away, I’m to marry Prince Joffrey.† She tried to smile bravely for him. â€Å"I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies.† â€Å"Sweet one,† her father said gently, â€Å"listen to me. When you’re old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who’s worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.† â€Å"He is!† Sansa insisted. â€Å"I don’t want someone brave and gentle, I want him. We’ll be ever so happy, just like in the songs, you’ll see. I’ll give him a son with golden hair, and one day he’ll be the king of all the realm, the greatest king that ever was, as brave as the wolf and as proud as the lion.† Arya made a face. â€Å"Not if Joffrey’s his father,† she said. â€Å"He’s a liar and a craven and anyhow he’s a stag, not a lion.† Sansa felt tears in her eyes. â€Å"He is not! He’s not the least bit like that old drunken king,† she screamed at her sister, forgetting herself in her grief. Father looked at her strangely. â€Å"Gods,† he swore softly, â€Å"out of the mouth of babes . . . † He shouted for Septa Mordane. To the girls he said, â€Å"I am looking for a fast trading galley to take you home. These days, the sea is safer than the kingsroad. You will sail as soon as I can find a proper ship, with Septa Mordane and a complement of guards . . . and yes, with Syrio Forel, if he agrees to enter my service. But say nothing of this. It’s better if no one knows of our plans. We’ll talk again tomorrow.† Sansa cried as Septa Mordane marched them down the steps. They were going to take it all away; the tournaments and the court and her prince, everything, they were going to send her back to the bleak grey walls of Winterfell and lock her up forever. Her life was over before it had begun. â€Å"Stop that weeping, child,† Septa Mordane said sternly. â€Å"I am certain your lord father knows what is best for you.† â€Å"It won’t be so bad, Sansa,† Arya said. â€Å"We’re going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we’ll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest.† She touched her on the arm. â€Å"Hodor!† Sansa yelled. â€Å"You ought to marry Hodor, you’re just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!† She wrenched away from her sister’s hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her. How to cite A Game of Thrones Chapter Forty-four, Essay examples