Quotes About Resilience

Any shield you make of your own hands cannot withstand the destructive power of the Olethron," Ruwach said. "But your seed can.

The drop excavates the stone, not with force but by falling often.

Though it is not often that death is so clearly told to fuck off.

The path i walk lights up in flames

You know nothing of war. War is dark. Black as pitch. It is not a God. It does not laugh or weep. It rewards neither skill nor daring. It is not a trial of souls, not the measure of wills. Even less is it a tool, a means to some womanish end. It is merely the place where the iron bones of the earth meet the hollow bones of men and break them.

Where hard life makes some maudlin to the point of weeping at mere memory, it grants others a curious immunity to suffering. Like the slaves who work the charcoal pits, their skin grows hardened to the pinch of fire and coals, insensible to burning things.

Hoga Gothyelk no longer felt anger, not truly -- only varieties of sorrow.

when the world denies us over and over, when it punishes us as it's punished you, Serwë, it becomes difficult to understand the meaning. All our pleas go unanswered. Our every trust is betrayed. Our hopes are all crushed. It seems we mean nothing to the world. And when we think we mean nothing, we begin to think we are nothing.

You know the rule of the slog, boys. The knee that buckles pulls ten men down.

Do not welcome self-pity. It is but a poor guest who will rob you of much joy and energy.

Seriously," Shane said, "this kind of is the worst situation we've ever been in, right?" "Speak for yourself," Michael said. "I got myself killed last year. Twice." "Oh yeah. You're right—last year really sucked for you.

I knew we'd wear them down,' Eve said. 'After all, we really are amazingly cool.' And now it was Eve's turn for the high five with Shane. 'For a bunch of misfit geeks, slackers, and losers.' 'Which one are you?' Shane asked. She flipped him off. 'Oh, right. Loser. Thanks for reminding me.

Hess laughed. You know, I thought you were a mousy little thing when I first saw you, Claire, but you're not, are you? Not underneath. Oh, I am mousy, she said.All this scares the hell out of me. But I don't know what else to do, sir, except try. Even a mouse bites.

He (Michael) was gone in a whisper of air, hardly making any sound at all, and Claire shivered and leaned against Shane's solid, very human warmth. His arms went around her, and he touched his lips lightly to the back of her neck. "How can you smell this good after the kind of crappy day we've had?" "I sweat perfume. Like all girls.

Not everything is about beating your head against the wall until it breaks." "Just most things.

I'm saying a prayer. Maybe you ought to, too. It's going to take us a miracle to get through this." Whether he was serious or not, Claire sent the prayer up toward heaven, and she thought the others did, too. So it seemed kind of miraculous when the doorbell rang. "At least they're getting more polite when they try to kill us," Shane said.

Glad it was you and not me, Shane said, and offered Myrin a hand up. Any brain damage? Since the bullet actually passed through his brain, then yes, idiot boy, there's certainly brain damage, Oliver said. It will pass. His brain's the least fragile thing about him. You say the nicest things, Myrin said. He was slurring his words, and he threw an arm around Oliver's neck. Marry me.

How can you smell this good after the kind of crappy day we've had? I sweat perfume. Like all girls.

You think that because I want to do what's right, because I want to make things better, I'm weak," Claire said. "Or that I'm stupid. But I'm not. It takes a lot more strength to know how bad the world is and not want to be part of that, give in to it. And I do know, Kim. Believe me.

You know, I thought you were a mousy little thing when I first saw you, Claire, but you're not, are you? Not underneath. Oh, I am mousy, she said. All this scares the hell out of me. But I don't know what else to do, sir, except try. Even a mouse bites.

And that, Claire thought, was why Morley had been right about this, even if he was a complete vampire about it. You had to save what you could. Amelie had understood that all along, Claire realized. That was why Morganville existed. Because you had to try.

The rule of the Morrell family was over, and Richard owned a used-car lot and Monica worked at a nail salon, until one day she got run over by a bus. Very sad.

No, Michael was all good. Killed, dismembered, buried, reborn…yeah, just another day in the life.

We never wanted to conquer the world, only our fears.