Quotes About Acceptance

you have the right to be satisfied with what you have and with what you are right now.

I am serene and balanced, whether life is perfect or not.

Stone had thought about dying before , but never in such close proximity to the event. Would his whole life flash before his eyes ? Would it be less painful if he just relaxed and let it happen ? He discovered he could not give in to it ; he would go down fighting with what meager resources he had left.

More or less," that most ambiguous of phrases, pervades many of the conversations that comprise this book, reflecting, perhaps, the ambiguity of attitude toward The Job. Something more than Orwellian acceptance, something less than Luddite sabotage. Often the two impulses are fused in the same person.

God, grant me serenity to accept those things I can't change, the courage to change those I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." -Division St.

You love another person not because of his virtues- that is infatuation- but in spite of his faults," he said to her. "Love has no place for idealization.

Satisfaction comes from giving up wishing I was somewhere else or doing something else.

The biggest surprise-- and it came as a great revalation-- was understanding that whatever happens, no matter how catastrophic or wonderful, it's just another patch. There are times when something special happens: a marriage, graduation, or the birth of a child. There's no denying it's a glorious patch. It might even be a red patch-- the one that pulls the whole quilt together. But I couldn't stop repeating, "It's just another patch.

The stark truth is, of course, that grief never dies. The American counsellor Lois Tonkin reminds us that loss isn't something we 'get over', and it doesn't necessarily lessen, either. It remains at the core of us and we just expand our lives around it, burying it deeper from the surface. So with time it may become more distant, more compartmentalised and therefore easier to manage, but it does not go away.

Fear of death is often a justifiable fear of the unknown; of circumstances beyond our personal control which we cannot know and for which we cannot prepare.

I want to be able to recognise death, to hear her coming, to see her, to touch her, smell her and taste her; to undergo the assault on all of my senses and, in my last moments, to understand her as completely as is humanly possible.

Granny had finished with dying, had died and was now dead – all very clear and distinct concepts in their minds. They were at ease with the finality. They know that the best memorial is a boxful of happy memories inside your head, and they know what a good death looks like.

Death is coming, and if it wasn't today, it might tomorrow

The American counsellor Lois Tonkin reminds us that loss isn't something we 'get over', and it doesn't necessarily lessen, either. It remains at the core of us and we just expand our lives around it, burying it deeper from the surface. So with time it may become more distant, more compartmentalised and therefore easier to manage, but it does not go away.

My husband would look at the women in those nudie magazines and say, "How come you don't have any chest?" And I said to him, "When you married me, I didn't have a chest. But when I married you, you had a full head of hair."

Ghosts don't haunt us. That's not how it works. They're present among us because we won't let go of them.

Ghosts don't haunt us. That's not how it works. They're present among us because we won't let go of them." "I don't believe in ghosts," I said, faintly. "Some people can't see the color red. That doesn't mean it isn't there," she replied.

Pretending to be 'normal' is a lot harder than you think.

Lucky is the spouse who dies first, who never has to know what survivors endure.

All of us are subjected to somebody else's power at some point. So once in a while you kiss ass. So what? Either you make your peace with that early, or you end up living your life as a crank and a misfit.

But it's a little like that children's book, THE VELVETEEN RABBIT, but in reverse: if you're not loved for who you are, you cease to be real. Definitely for the other person, and maybe for yourself, too.

Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who

Without meaning to, I've become the neighborhood weirdo.

Today my life has frogs aplenty and this delights me, but I am not so pleased with myself. My life hasn't turned out as I expected it would, for one thing. For another, I no longer know all about anything. I don't even know the first thing about frogs, for instance.