Quotes About Resilience

Few people will say maybe I had a tough time with different teams like Aston Villa and Middlesbrough but in each situation, I tried to take the good things.

I realized why I can cook for different environments. Because of everything I've gone through growing up. Why can I cook for a Hollywood event without blinking an eye? Because I cooked at the Beverly Hilton and because I moved to Villa Park. Why can I cook for kids on Hollywood Boulevard at night? Because I went through it.

There were times while I was injured at Villa when I felt like I was a ghost.

I knew my knee was getting worse at Villa. The first season was dreadful and we went down. But speak to the Villa fans - take away the last three years - they were saying at the start that I should be playing for England.

I actually stormed out of the villa and said, I want to go home, I can't do it any more, I can't find a man.' I'm so proud that I got the strength to stay and carry on.

I would like to thank my parents in Vergaio, a little village in Italy. They gave me the biggest gift: poverty.

My mum knows people in the village who died or were affected by Agent Orange who had kids who are disabled. I could have been an orphan. So many things could have gone wrong but here I am... I realise how lucky I am to be here.

I grew up in a mud house, in a small village.

I grew up in a village after the war, and in the village, there were almost only women.

Some of the parts of Burma, we met people who'd never, ever gone out of their village. And they were brutally poor; incredibly poor. And yet they enjoy their lives.

I am a low-key girl from a middle-class family of a small village.

There was electricity in our village only for 2-3 hours a day, so all my life, I studied under a lamp.

I was described as a dreamer, a fantasist, even as the village idiot. I didn't care. What I cared about was convincing people to allow me to go on with my work.

So, it looks like we rebuild the village and blow it apart a few more times.

When I become the village idiot, or at least, it starts to become a joke, you can't do that much longer.

I grew up in the East Village, in Alphabet City, when it was a very dangerous neighborhood. To survive there, I had to learn to be a little bit invisible.

My parents, Mary Agnes Smith and Rowland Smith, both had to work since their early teens, she in the holiday boarding house of her mother and he in his father's market garden in Marton Moss, a village on the south side of Blackpool, just north of Saint Anne's-on-Sea.

One of the lessons I learned was that there are good people everywhere. That village, Sabray, saved my life.

The village I come from is the most ruthless, lawless land one can encounter.

My mom, my aunt, and my grandma banded together and gave me a village of support when I was growing up.

My wife gone, my mum gone, ostracised by my village. I was left all alone in life.

Our parents faced more hardship than us. They didn't stop us from training despite hearing the taunts from the people in the village. We were fortunate to have parents like them.

Our village is very small, so I wasn't surprised when I heard some negative comments from my neighbours on my interest in sports. But nothing mattered, as I always knew what I was doing and why I was doing it.

Thanks to my training in Balali village, I am rough and tough.