Quotes About Resilience

There is no protest to be lodged against loneliness—not all the bombing campaigns in history have made a dent in it.

Alvin didn't cry, didn't curse, didn't holler.... He was too far gone to roar on that day or even to crack. Only I did.... Only I cracked, alone, later in the one place in our house where I knew I could go to be apart from the living and all that they cannot not do.

No one gets through unmarked by brooding, grief, confusion, and loss. Even those who had it all as kids sooner or later get the average share of misery, if not sometimes more.

He was trying hard to continue to exist as himself despite the unlikeliness of everything.

It's important that neighborhood life goes on as usual—otherwise, it's not only the stricken and their families who are victims, but Weequahic itself becomes a victim. At

Anybody can run away and survive, the trick was to stay and survive

Enduring tedium over real time in a confined space is what real courage is

Victor Frankl? Victor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning?

Ser imune ao tédio... É a chave da vida moderna. Se você não se deixar vencer pelo tédio, não existe nada, literalmente, que você não possa conquistar.

Sometimes human beings have to just sit in one place and hurt.

a paciencia de los neoyorquinos para las multitudes, las colas y las esperas, resulta muy impresionante si no estás acostumbrada a ella; son capaces de permanecer todos inactivos en lugares sin aire durante periodos extensos, con unas expresiones en los ojos que indican esa combinación neoyorquina única de meditación y depresión clínica, claramente infelices, pero sin quejarse para nada.

You're right," I said. "It's not up there with Neil Diamond at the Mid-Hudson Civic Center. I can't believe this is my life." "Then you need to do something about it," he said. "So you don't think that if I whine loud enough, God will hear me?" "It hasn't worked so far." "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," I said.

And what is a man? He is someone who rises when life has knocked him down. He is someone who raises his fist to heaven when a storm has ruined his crop--and then plants again. And again. A man remains unbroken by the savage twists of fate. That man may never win. But when he sees himself reflected, he can be proud of what he sees. For low he may be in the present scheme of things: peasant, serf, or dispossessed. But he is unconquerable

True. The one certainty about riding, Braygan, is that - at some time - you will fall off. It is a fact. Another fact you might like to consider, in your life of perpetual terror, is that you will die. We are all going to die, some of us young, some of us old, some of us in our sleep, some of us screaming in agony. We cannot stop it, we can only delay it.

An enemy is like a man's most prized flower. It brings him joy to see it buried in the ground.

A great man once told me there can be no courage without fear

Once I was a lamb, playing in a green field. Then the wolves came. Now I am an eagle and I fly in a different universe.

One day the enemy will cross the Great Green. They will bring war and tragedy to these eastern lands. Such is the nature of vile men. Yet we cannot live in dread of them. We cannot hide behind these high walls, our hearts trembling. For that is not life. We must accept the needs and the duties of each day, and face them one at a time.

A man is only as strong as that which makes him angry.

Yes, it would have been good, he thought, to spend quiet years with his family, waiting for his diseased heart to fail as he sat in his chair staring at the mountains. But this was better. This was life! Not the killing and the terrified screams of dying men suddenly facing the awesome spectre of their own mortality. No, but to face his fears as a man, to stand at the brink of the abyss and refuse to be cowed or beaten down.

I remember an old teacher of mine once saying that behind every dark cloud the sun was just waiting to boil you to death.

Death haunts everyone and never fails

Nothing would ever have been achieved, he thought, if men had allowed themselves to be diverted by the scale of the problems faced.

The battle between good and evil is circular. Good wins, evil wins, good again.