Quotes About Resilience

Desolation tries to colonize you.

Life is still hard, but it is fair, and there is more joy in it that doesn't feast on heartache.

Jonathan shuddered. There were birds in his head now, as if escaping from the empty feeders above their heads. Ghost birds. Fluttering around inside his skull, and he could not get them out. Yet still he went on, wanting to burst through the nettle and tall trees, find a copse and feel the sunlight on his face. It was getting colder and colder in the haunted mansion.

Neanche la sua bellezza può essere compresa e, quando intravedi la bellezza nella desolazione, qualcosa dentro di te cambia. La desolazione cerca di colonizzarti

Writing, for me, is like trying to restart an engine that has rested for years, silent and rusting, in an empty lot—choked with water and dirt, infiltrated by ants and spiders and cockroaches. Vines and weeds shoved into it and sprouting out of it. A kind of coughing splutter, an eruption of leaves and dust, a voice that sounds a little like mine but is not the same as it was before;

Perhaps there is no shame in this, perhaps I can bear this, fight this. To give in but not give up. And projected back out behind him, toward the sea, Saul unable to say the name, just three simple words that seemed so inadequate, and yet they were all he had left to use.

And I never did look back for better or worse. If funding for a project ran out or the area we studied was suddenly bought for development, I never returned. There are certain kinds of deaths that one should not be expected to relive. Certain kinds of connections so deep that when they are broken you feel the snap of the link inside of you.

The way back was harder, and no getting around that-no truth I learned struggling back, except that life is struggle. It placed me in some gray realm beyond, a landscape of exertion and anguish. I had nothing left to give, and yet still I had something left it give.

would destroy the planet or save it? In its recognition of her, Ghost Bird knew that something would survive, that she would survive.

The world we are a part of now is difficult to accept, unimaginably difficult. I don't know if I accept everything even now. I don't know how I can. But acceptance moves past denial, and maybe there's defiance in that, too.

But by then, whenever this was, the Strange Bird did not want to live, or did not know she could live, and that was the same thing in the end.

En ocasiones las personas ofrecen su luz pero esta parpadea y es extremadamente tenue, porque nunca antes se ha ocupado nadie de ellas. Porque han dado demasiado de sí mismos y ya no les queda nada.

Perhaps my only real expertise, my only talent, is to endure beyond the endurable.

W]hen you see beauty in desolation it changes something inside you. Desolation tries to colonize you.

You can screw Nevada, Mess with Maine, Leave Hawaii in a puddle of pain. You can beat Virginia till she's down on the floor. But if you fuck with Tex, You'll be on your knees for sure!

Truth crushed to the earth is truth still and like a seed will rise again.

And life changes. Maybe just a little, maybe a lot. And at some point, it just isn't worth the fight to fix it.

That's the past for you. Not only does it come back at the most unexpected, and inconvenient, times but it's set in stone.

You think publishing is tough but the music world is ten times tougher.

It's a tough life, she'd said. "It's the little things that get us through the day.

Yield and you need not break. Bent, you can straighten. Emptied, you can hold. Torn, you can mend.

The Frenchman beside me had been dead since dawn. His scarred and shackled body swayed limply back and forth with every sweep of the great oar as we, his less fortunate bench-fellows, tugged and strained to keep time to the stroke.

Well I certainly have learned and I hope I'm moving on and certainly two years of prison was a terrible punishment.

We all make mistakes but one has to move on.