Quotes About Perseverance

Years later, people look back upon their darkest day and say -- as Churchill said of London's war years -- 'This was our finest hour.' In a tough spot right now You may be on the very edge of winning

As soon as the creatures were destroyed he could learn to live again.

Where do you find the strength to brave a barrage of enemy fire and to bring your wounded friends to safety at great risk to your own life? Conviction.

You are not required to start over, but you are required to keep going.

actresses. But when he got married, he told this fancy woman he was done with her, just like a high-minded man ought to do. But she wouldn't let him go. He was her last chance, you see. She was through at the Jewel Box. Not that them girls at the Jewel Box are supposed

So I didn't adopt Homer because he was cute and little and sweet, or because he was helpless and needed me. I adopted him because when you think you see something so fundamentally worthwhile in someone else, you don't look for the reasons - like bad timing or a negative bank balance - that might keep it out of your life. You commit to being strong enough to build your life around it, no matter what. In doing so, you begin to become the thing you admire.

I'd understood that when you see something so fundamentally worthwhile in somebody else, you don't look for all the reasons that might keep it out of your life. You commit to being strong enough to build your life around it, no matter what. In doing so, you begin to become the thing you admire.

If I had learned one thing from Homer over the years, it was that just because you couldn't quite see your way out of a difficulty, that didn't mean a way out didn't exist.

A miracle... my biggest accomplishment is my marriage so far. Because it's hard, everyone knows it's hard.

grown up poor in the midst of Southern California affluence, graduated from Stanford Law School, and held a series of jobs, including corporate lawyer, developer of vast Southern California orange groves, and deputy chair of

I don't think it ever ocurred to me to aim for happyness, though. I mean, do you do that? No, just try to get trough with as little pain as possible, that's the way ...

The first night, a rock, big as two fists. The second, a rock big as three. But nary a curse cursed Rudolph Reed. (Though oaken as man could be.) The third night, a silvery ring of glass. Patience arched to endure, But he looked, and lo! small Mabel's blood Was staining her gaze so pure.

I hold my honey and I store my bread In little jars and cabinets of my will. I label clearly, and each latch and lid I bid, Be firm till I return from hell.

Big Bessie's feet hurt like nobody's business,but she stands—bigly—under the unruly scrutiny, stands in the wild weed.In the wild weedshe is a citizen.

Wherever life can grow, it will. It will sprout out, and do the best it can. I give you what I have. You don't get all your questions answered in this world. How many answers shall be found in the developing world of my Poem? I don't know. Nevertheless I put my Poem, which is my life, into your hands, where it will do the best it can.

We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan, Grayed in, and gray.

If you ask a question, you can't stop there. You must keep going. You can't stop there: World will wave; will be facetious, angry. You can't stop there. You have to keep on going.

I hold my honey and I store my bread In little jars and cabinets of my will. I label clearly, and each latch and lid I bid, Be firm till I return from hell. I am very hungry. I am incomplete. And none can tell when I may dine again.

Well, life has been a baffled vehicle And baffling. But she fights, and Has fought, according to her lights and The lenience of her whirling-place. She fights with semi-folded arms, Her strong bag, and the stiff Frost of her face (that challenges "When" and "If.") And altogether she does Rather Well.

Say to them, say to the down-keepers, the sun-slappers, the self-soilers, the harmony-hushers, "Even if you are not ready for day it cannot always be night." You will be right. For that is the hard home-run. Live not for battles won. Live not for the-end-of-the-song. Live in the along.

It is lonesome, yes. For we are the last of the loud. Nevertheless, live. Conduct your blooming in the noise and whip of the whirlwind.

But it is never over; nothing ends until we want it to. Look, in shattered midnights, On black ice under silver trees, We are still dancing, dancing.

The whole thing starts with a single knot and needles. A word and pen. Tie a loop in nothing. Look at it. Cast on, repeat the procedure till you have a line that you can work with. It's a pattern made of relation alone, my patience, my rhythm, till empty bights create a fabric that can be worn, if you're lucky and practised. It's never too late to pick up dropped stitches... (from "How to Knit a Poem")

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