Quotes About Resignation

I had thus learned to push down my feelings, to force myself to not care, to do nothing and let things happen, come what may.

I prefer granting with a good grace what I know I shan't be able to prevent.

I had resigned my temporary lectureship—thankless, dreary work, from which I would be suddenly distracted by the slightest song, the slightest sound coming from the country outside; in every passing cry I heard an invitation. How often I have leapt from my reading and run to the window to see—nothing pass by! How often I have hurried out of doors. . . The only attention I found possible was that of my five senses.

Daarna gaf ik me maar over aan mijn lot, wat bijna altijd het beste is wat je kunt doen.

On my way out with the rest, I glanced back at Bowman. he was on this knees, his hair in his face, his nose and split lips dripping with blood. He was staring down at the floor like he'd been waiting for this and now it had finally happened; he look relieved.

We must learn of Jesus, how He is meek and lowly of heart. He teaches us where true humility takes its rise and finds its strength—in the knowledge that it is God who worketh all in all, that our place is to yield to Him in perfect resignation and dependence, in full consent to be and to do nothing of ourselves.

There is no possibility of salvation but in and by the birth of the meek, humble, patient, resigned Lamb of God in our souls.

The one true way of dying to self is the way of patience, meekness, humility, and resignation to God.

What do you call a guy who you're sleeping with --Let's say you do that for nine years, you make breakfast and have birthday parties and arguments and wear what he tells you to wear, for nine years, and you're nice to his friends, and he's always at your place, but you know all the time it can't go anywhere, he's going to find someone, it won't be you, that's agreed on from the start, he's going to find someone and marry him -- what do you call that guy?

There follows, I am sad to say, a very long ride on a very slow road…to your final place of rest." He sighs, for he has spoken the truth for all men. Less understands: he has been assigned a poet.

There follows, I am sad to say, a very long ride on a very slow ride... to your final place of rest. He sighs, for he has spoken the truth for all men. Less understands: he has been assigned a poet.

Arturo says, "There follows, I am sad to say, a very long ride on a very slow road…to your final place of rest." He sighs, for he has spoken the truth for all men.

If something's going to happen for you, it will, you can't make it happen. And it never does happen until you're past the point where you care whether it happens or not.

As she began to draw the outer edge of her cheek, she realized she had the look of a person who was waiting. Not impatient, not tortured, not frustrated. Just waiting. What was she waiting for? (...) She was still holding out for something that wasn't going to happen. She was good at waiting. That seemed like a sad thing to be good at.

You're right." I stood up and grabbed my coat. "I quit the Baby-sitters Club!

It's over. I can't believe it. Back to boring old life.

What followed became known as "the exodus." First, a whole group of senior managers who had been part of Ron's team—our financial officer, our data processing manager, the guy who was running our distribution centers—all walked out behind him. You can imagine how Wall Street felt about that.

When a man knows he is to be hanged in the morning, it concentrates his mind wonderfully.

To ABDICATE  (A'BDICATE)   v.a.[Lat. abdico.]To give up right; to resign; to lay down an office. Old Saturn, here, with upcast eyes,Beheld his abdicated skies.Addison.

I used to think I preferred getting old to the alternative, but now I'm not sure. Sometimes the momotony of bingo and sing-alongs and ancient dusty people parked in teh hallway in wheelchairs makes me long for death. Particularly when I rememver that I'm one of the ancient dusty people, filed away like some worthless tchotchke.

Sometimes the monotony of bingo and sing alongs, ancient dusty people parked in the hallway in wheelchairs makes me long for death, particularly when -- remember that I'm one of the ancient dusty people, filed away like some worthless chotski.

I realize the blackness of sleep is circling my head. It's been there awhile, biding its time and growing closer with each revolution. I give up on rage, which at this point has become a formality, and make a mental note to get angry again in the morning. Then I let myself drift, because there's really no fighting it.

The way I see it," she continued, "is that some things are just meant to be the way they are.

But the blind did not go around very much. They sat, and didn't seem to have any conversation, and soon you were aware of leisure gone bad. I had learned something of this during Einhorn's days of dirty mental weather. Or of the soul, not the mind, the sick evil of not even knowing why anything should ail you since you're resigned to accept all conditions.