Quotes About Resilience

Defeats do men far more good than victories.

A bitter ending' said Yarvi. 'Many sweet stories have them', said Jaud.

Summers past love company, seems every time you turn around there's more o' the bastards at your back.

Strange how, as long as the hardship lasts, we can stand it. As soon as the crisis is over, the strength all leeches away in an instant.

Shoglig was talking shit. That old bitch didn't know when I was going to die at all. If I'd known that I'd surely have worn more armour.' Whirrun made a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh, then winced, coughed, laughed again, winced again. 'Fuck, it hurts. I mean, you know it will, but, fuck, it really does hurt. Guess you showed me my destiny anyway, eh, Craw?

One step at a time,' he muttered to himself as he clambered up the slope. That was the only way to look at it. If you clenched your teeth hard enough, and took enough strides, you could get anywhere. One painful, weary, freezing, guilty step at a time.

What? A family?" Ninefingers frowned, rubbing grimly at the stump of his middle finger. "I did have one. And now I've got another. You don't pick your family, you take what you'er given and you make the best of it." He pointed at Ferro, then at Quai. "You see her, and him, and you?" He slapped his hand down on Jezal's shoulder. "That's my family now, and I don't pal on losing a brother today, you understand?

If you clenched your teeth hard enough, and took enough strides, you could get anywhere. One painful, weary, freezing, guilty step at a time.

She was not a woman to be deterred by hatred: not from her workers, not from her rivals, not from the men she bullied, bribed or blackmailed to get her way. It is when they truly hate you, after all, that you know you have won. So she met the seething dislike with effortless superiority, paraded past with her shoulders back and chin high. If she was to be cast as the villain, so be it. They were always the most interesting characters anyway.

Experience had taught her that not all scars showed, and those that did might be the least bothersome.

There are times for growing stronger and times for comforting, and sometimes both times see a few tears.

I learnt a long time back to accept whatever comes my way. Best savor the good and bear up under the bad. There ain't no changin' none of it.

Nay," Isaac said.

Coddling a body cheats 'em out of finding their own strength.

But God gave us tears because he knew that sometimes we would need to let out some of our sadness.

Good morning," I said awkwardly. Being shipwrecked doesn't make shyness any easier.

Time passes and I am still not through it. Grief isn't something you get over. You live with it. You go on on with it lodged in you. Sometimes I feel like I have swallowed a pile of stones. Grief makes me heavy. It makes me slow. Even on days when I laugh a lot, or dance, or finish a project, or meet a deadline, or celebrate, or make love, it is there. Lodged deep inside of me.

She imagined books and this book group getting her through whatever was coming next.

I've often wondered, even to this day, why during painful times some people seem to step away from themselves and make decisions that fall far out of their usual line of character and behaviour. Perhaps a natural reluctance to sit still is central, or perhaps, like the lesser animals, instinct forces us to go on even if grief has left us not up to the task…. In one fleeting moment, I stripped away the petals of my future, let them catch wind, and fly away

Words of kindness had always been more difficult for me to handle than harsh reprimands. Ever since I had been quite young, I could resist those who went against me, had been able to deny their opinions. My inner strength came from an ability to handle, then separate myself from, adversity. Compassion, however, brought up more raw emotion than judgments could ever stir.

Loving him was perhaps like peering into the rain—a sort of sightlessness, akin to stumbling about in a storm, grabbing the things you want to find, and letting the others wash away.

If my father hadn't come to America about 35 years ago, I'd be starving in Poland . . . I'd be sobbing in France . . . I'd be stealing in Greece . . . I'd be shivering in Belgrade . . . I'd be slaving in Frankfurt . . . I'd be hiding in Prague . . . I'd be buried in Russia. But here he was, alive and walking on his own two feet.

Livvy and her father] Neither of us had been as strong as we'd wanted to be.

POW camp, he'd imagined a sweet life in a tidy house, Alice