Quotes About Resilience

What happened is baked into your bones, Edward. It lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on, since the first time I met you, is learning to live with that.

God is not here to be demanded of, begged from, or criticized. He hands out burdens to those who are strong enough to carry them, and I feel profoundly uncomfortable with the idea of lining up with the other invalids and asking for mine to be alleviated.

Hope may have a positive reputation, but it has a vicious downside. If you have hope, you can be crushed.

You are special. You are meant to survive, to go on and do great things.

There is a note of relief. They have somewhere to start, even if it is the worst place imaginable.

I feel like I should be over it by now," he says. "Everyone else has forgotten about the flight. Mostly, anyway. But I feel like I still think about it all the time." ... "What happened is baked into your bones, Edward. It lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on, since the first time I met you, is learning to live with that.

lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on, since the first time I met you, is learning to live with that.

What happened is baked into your bones, ...It lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on, since the first time I met you, is learning to live with that.

Edward. It lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on, since the first time I met you, is learning to live with that.

I'm sorry it didn't work out," Linda says. Florida smiles at the girl. "Everything ends," she says. "That's nothing to be sad about. What matters is what starts in that moment.

The two boys lead the way down the hall. There are windows in this corridor, and the skyscrapers of New York City are visible in the distance—man-made mountains of steel and glass piercing a blue sky. Jane and Bruce can't help but locate the spot where the Twin Towers used to be, the same way the tongue finds the hole where a tooth was pulled. Their sons, who were both toddlers when the towers fell, accept the skyline as it is.

What happened is baked into your bones, Edward. It lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be a part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on, since the first time I met you, is learning to live with that.

He's been sucker-punched by memories of his brother. This happens sometimes, and he knows he has to ride the memories out.

The fact that he had failed meant he had to continue to walk forward with his life history—his mistakes—slung over his shoulders like a heavy backpack. This fact exhausted him, but he was too tired to reject it.

Edward spends every night reaching for unconsciousness as if it were a rock in the middle of a river, while a fierce current pulls him away. His fingertips sometimes

Edward swallows. Like a dutiful student, he follows her train of thought. Voldemort equals plane crash. Dead parents equal dead parents. Harry equals him.

for a person is so profound that it's part of who you are, then the absence of the person becomes part of your DNA, your bones,

He looks down at his busted legs, to avoid seeing the lethal sky.

William was slow-moving and unable to hold a conversation until he'd eaten a thousand calories and the color returned to his face.

I could be mad at you. I could scream at you. But I won't. You raised me to take care of myself, and I will.

When he woke up in the hospital, dry, and saw Sylvie on a chair next to him, his first thought was that he'd failed. The fact that he had failed meant he had to continue to walk forward with his life history--his mistakes--slung over his shoulders like a heavy backpack. This fact exhausted him, but he was too tired to reject it.

reimagining herself. She was Julia's wild hair, she was the lake her husband had once been carried out of, and no matter what happened next, she was love.

When an old person dies," Kent said, "even if that person is wonderful, he or she is still somewhat ready, and so are the people who loved them. They're like old trees, whose roots have loosened in the ground. They fall gently. But when someone like your aunt Sylvie dies—before her time—her roots get pulled out and the ground is ripped up. Everyone nearby is in danger of being knocked

whoever she was becoming. She was grateful that her father had prepared her for this type of hard, lonely