Quotes About Resilience

No matter how much he talked, she never answered him, but he knew she was still there. He knew it was like the soldiers he had read about. They would have an arm or a leg blown off, and for days, even weeks after it happened, they could still feel the arm itching, the leg itching, the mother calling.

You react to crisis the right way. You remember what Toynbee says? His theory of challenge and response applies not only to nations, but to individuals. Some nations and some people melt in the heat of crisis and come apart like fat in the pan. Others meet the challenge and harden. I think you're going to harden.

iOpus Recovery

Purpose not only calls the team together but, like glue, holds the team together during the inevitable turbulence the team will experience on its journey.

Angel , who found a flower blooming in hell and died for it ...

Old soldiers never die - they're just thrown on the scrap heap!

Hard work guarantees you nothing, but without it you don't stand a chance

After a glorious victory in a grand war, the hardest battle to fight is the first little skirmish of the next campaign.

It's what you get from games you lose that is extremely important.

There's no such things as coulda, shoulda, woulda. If you shoulda and coulda, you woulda done it.

Mickey was not merely the right idea at the right time; he was the creative solution to a crisis in Walt's life.

What? It was a good word. Like a rock in a river, sticking up to let you land on it, so you could make your way across the flow.

Be patient, as you must always be patient with new pale seeds buried in the dark ground. When you are stronger, you can begin to think again. But now is the time to feel.

I wish you were small again, so I could hold you in my arms and comfort you. But you are grown, and you know that for some things there is no comfort.

Winds shook me apart piecemeal, flung a bone here, a bone there. My eyes became snow, my hair turned to ice; I heard it chime against my shoulders like wind-blown glass. If I spoke, words would fall from me like snow, pour out of me like black wind.

In that place things begin to wear away even as they are built; the living die a little more each day. The sun is too far away; light slides endlessly into night; fire and love consume themselves; the heart tries to warm itself with ashes.

The rains began. Hard, constant, they battered the fields, turned the roads to mud, crushed the gold leaves into the ground and turned them black. In the wood, the sodden trees and brambles bowed beneath the torrents.

Nobody, living or dead, makes things easy even when you love them. Especially then.

Today green pastureland has dried up and turned to sandy plains, and the land provides little support to the herders, who can barely scratch out an existence in the semi-arid climate. Each day is a test of their survival.

Patricia C. McKissack

Sophie von Hahn refused to be cowed, embarrassed, resentful, dishonest or passed over. [...] She intended to bewitch her straying childhood lover all over again, and free him from whatever noxious enchantment had induced him to be censorious and horrid. No fear, no guilt, no shame. She set out to win.

Bad news doesn't hurt as much, if you hear it in good company. It's like, if somebody pushes you out of a 5th floor window and you bounce off an awning, a car roof, and a pile of plastic garbage bags before you smash onto the pavement, you've got a pretty good chance of surviving.

You trust God, and no matter what happens, you refuse to let your faith be shaken.

There was something demoniacal and insuperable about typographical errors, as if they were part of the natural evil that permeated man's existence, as if they had a life of their own and were determined to manifest themselves no matter what, as surely as weeds in the best-tended gardens.