Quotes About Resilience

That life—whatever else it is—is short. That fate is cruel but maybe not random. That Nature (meaning Death) always wins but that doesn't mean we have to bow and grovel to it. That maybe even if we're not always so glad to be here, it's our task to immerse ourselves anyway: wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open.

And if what she'd wanted had been impossible from the start, still there was a certain lonely comfort in the fact that she'd known it was impossible and had gone ahead and done it anyway.

does it make any sense at all to know that it ends badly for all of us, even the happiest of us, and that we all lose everything that matters in the end -- and yet to know as well, despite all this, as cruelly as the game is stacked, that it's possible to play it with a kind of joy? To try to make some meaning out of all this seems unbelievably quaint.

What if our badness and mistakes are the very thing that set our fate and bring us round to good? What if, for some of us, we can't get there any other way?

It never occurred to me that half of the population of Vermont wasn't experiencing pretty much what I put myself through every night- bone-crackling cold that made my joints ache, cold so relentless I felt it in my dreams: ice floes, lost expeditions, the lights of search planes swinging over whitecaps as I floundered alone Arctic Seas.

For weeks, I'd been frozen, sealed-off; now, in the shower, I would turn up the water as hard as it would go and howl, silently. Everything was raw and painful and confusing and wrong and yet it was as if I'd been dragged from freezing water through a break in the ice, into sun and blazing cold.

or rather, how strange to find that the present contained such a bright shard of the living past, damaged and eroded but not destroyed.

Sometimes I wondered exactly what it might take to break Andy out of his math-nerd turret: a tidal wave? Decepticon invasion? Godzilla tromping down Fifth Avenue? He was a planet without an atmosphere.

Wade straight through life, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and heart open.

I could do what I had to. I'd done it before: gone blank, pushed forward.

Te sorprendería saber hasta qué punto las pequeñas cosas cotidianas pueden sacarnos de nuestra desesperación.

What if our badness and mistakes are the very thing that set our fate and bring us round to good? What if, for some of us, we can't get there any other way?

Deprendi miserum et

Maybe even if we're not always so glad to be here it's our task to immerse ourselves anyway: wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open.

The thing to remember," said Dave, the psychiatrist who had been assigned to me by the city, "is that you'll be taken care of no matter what." He was a thirtyish guy with dark clothes and trendy eyeglasses who always looked as if he'd just come from a poetry reading in the basement of some church.

Rather in the way that the Roman Empire continued in a certain fashion to run itself even when there was no one left to run it and the reason behind it was entirely gone, much of this routine remained intact even during the terrible days after Bunny's death. Up until the very end there was always, always, Sunday-night dinner at Charles and Camilla's, except on the evening of the murder itself, when no one felt much like eating and it was postponed until Monday.) I

it may be a superhuman effort to lose oneself so completely, but that's nothing compared to the effort of getting oneself back again

No money, holes in my socks, living off oatmeal.

She was young still, and the chains had not yet grown tight around her ankles…Whatever was to be done, she would do it.

not to look back or feel sad about things, that home is wherever I am.

a vida - para além do mais que possa ser - é curta. (...) o destino é cruel e talvez não aleatório. (...) a morte ganha sempre, mas isso não quer dizer que tenhamos de lhe baixar a cabeça e a bajular.

God has tortured Theo plenty. If suffering makes noble, then he is a prince.

You'd be surprised, Theo. she said, leaning back in her shawl-shaped chair, what small, everyday things can lift us out of despair. But nobody can do it for you. You're the one who has to watch for the open door.

In the old days, the snow would drift up to the eaves of the roofs and people would be trapped in their houses and starve to death, they wouldn't be found until spring.