Quotes About Resilience

Failing tastes of bile and dog vomit. Shame on any man who gets used to that taste.

The world as we know it is ending, my friends, no matter what happens to us

Sometimes there is no hope, whispered Das. There's always some hope, Mr. Das. No, Mr. Luczak, there is not. Sometimes there is only pain. And acquiescence to pain. And, perhaps, defiance at the world which demands such pain. Defiance is a form of hope, is it not, sir?

In the end, it is all we are, these limpid tide pools of self-consciousness between crashing waves of pain. We are destined and designed to bear our pain with us, hugging it tight to our bellies like the young Spartan thief hiding a wolf cub so it can eat away our insides.

who, like Crozier, would rather have his kidney stones removed with a spoon than be forced to suffer sermons —

All those before us have gone into the darkness without assurance of logic or fact or persuasive theory, with only a slender thread of hope or all too shakable convention of faith. And they have been able to sustain that slim hope in the face of darkness, then so must I.

We will revel in hardships and welcome strangeness.

We will revel in hardships and welcome strangeness. We will not make the universe adapt Ã¢â'¬Â¦ we shall adapt.

The charge took less than forty seconds but Kassad discovered that this was ample time for his mouth to go absolutely dry, his breathing to begin to have problems, and for his testicles to retreat completely into his body. If the rest of Kassad could have found a comparable hiding place, he would have seriously considered crawling into it.

It is hard to die. Harder to live.

Crozier hurts to the cavity in the center of his self where he is sure his soul had resided until it floated away on a sea of whiskey over the decades.

We are created precisely for this type of suffering. In the end, it is all we are, these limpid tide pools of self-consciousness between crashing waves of pain. We are destined and designed to bear our pain with us, hugging it tight to our bellies like the young Spartan thief hiding a wolf cub so it can eat away our insides.

I've never been in a place that seemed as mean or shitty, and I've spent time in some of the great sewer cities of the world.

that we shall never surrender . . . never surrender or waver or bend to lesser voices or more comfortable impulses . . . never waver until the victory is ours, aggression is undone, and the peace is won. I thank you.

storm and nightfall.

God Almighty, I love life. Even this vile place, where the trees are shattered stubs and where nothing grows but craters, even the sights, scents, sounds, and stirrings of this place are preferable to the unchanging nothingness of the Great Darkness.

Their three approaches fail but somehow the story itself succeeds, despite its narrator's and even author's failures!

How they must have thought their efforts and adventures over, only to have to pick up their burdens again. How often, I realized now as an adult in my standard thirties, how often that is the case in all of our lives.

The whiskey never seemed to compromise the man's competence

interlocutor

Mountaineers know that all mountains are in a constant state of collapse—their verticality being inescapably and inevitably worn down every moment by wind, water, weather, and gravity—but

when I find the bullet iwill spit it out it out.

I was getting used to the caustic voice in my head. It and I had made a peace when I realized that it wasn't urging me to lie down and die, just critiquing my inadequate efforts to stay alive.

I meant only to point out that in hopelessness there is always hope.