Quotes About Acceptance

And so, in these ways, in order to please Zainab, Anjum began to rewrite a simpler, happier life for herself. The rewriting in turn began to make Anjum a simpler, happier person.

human beings were creatures of habit, and it was amazing the kind of things they could get used to.

For the first time in her life, Tilo felt that her body had enough room to accomodate all of its organs.

His rejection of her in life (gentle and compassionate though it was) was neutralized by death. In her memory of him, he embraced her. Just her. In the way a man embraces a woman.

Now they were old. Old enough. A viable, die-able age.

Once you have fallen off the edge like all of us have, you will never stop falling. And as you fall you will hold on to other falling people. The sooner you understand that the better. This place where we live, where we made our home, is the place of falling people. Here there is baqeeqat. Arre, even we aren't real. We don't really exist

She was perhaps too young to realize that what she assumed was her love for Chacko was actually a tentative, timorous, acceptance of herself.

You know how they end, yet you listen as though you don't. In the way that although you know that one day you will die, you live as though you won't. In the Great Stories you know who lives, who dies, who finds love, who doesn't. And yet you want to know again.

what she assumed was her love for Chacko was actually a tentative, timorous, acceptance of herself.

Something convulsed. Something changed. It was about language again. Not a writer's private language, but a country's public language, its public imagination of itself. Suddenly, things that would have been unthinkable to say in public became acceptable. Officially acceptable. Virile national pride, which had more to do with hate than love, flowed like noxious lava on the streets.

Since the New Testament in the form in which we now have it did not receive acceptance in the churches until the fifth century, it is well to remember that for nearly three hundred years Christians did not have it but considered the Old Testament their only scripture.

Life may have no meaning. Or even worse, it may have a meaning of which I disapprove.

men are who they are. We try to make them into something they are not, and then are astonished when they turn out not to be what we wanted. We betray ourselves.

Lie still, it said. If you do not rise, do not move, nothing can hurt you. Simply do nothing, say nothing, be nowhere.

Sometimes there is no comfort, only the knowledge that the worst has happened.

Death, of course, is not a failure. Death is normal. Death may be the enemy, but it is also the natural order of things.

People die only once. They have no experience to draw on.

But as your horizons contract—when you see the future ahead of you as finite and uncertain—your focus shifts to the here and now, to everyday pleasures and the people closest to you.

Old age is not a battle. Old age is a massacre.

Instead they choose to accept their fallibilities. They recognised the simplicity and power of using a checklist.

you live longer only when you stop trying to live longer.

But death is not a subject that his doctors, friends, or family can countenance. That is what causes him his most profound pain.

as people's capacities wane, whether through age or ill health, making their lives better often requires curbing our purely medical imperatives—resisting the urge to fiddle and fix and control.

It is not death that the very old tell me they fear. It is what happens short of death—losing their hearing, their memory, their best friends, their way of life.