Quotes About Survival

El ser se extingue cuando se extingue la voluntad de lucha

Take hope from the heart of man and you make him a beast of prey.

Hence, being thus suited to the Age which had begotten her, being thus its creature and its likeness, she bad thriven in it as the snake thrives in hot and poisonous waters which for all purer and healthier things breed death.

I wonder now that I did not die; but if everything died that is full of wretchedness, your world would soon have but a sparse peopling.

Evidence not of imperial glory, but of complete cultural failure and betrayal by men who insisted on importing their environment with them, rather than adapting to a new one in which they found themselves struggling to survive.

Somebody said to me this morning, 'To what do you attribute your longevity?' I don't know. I mean, I couldn't have planned my life out better. By all accounts I should be dead! The abuse I put my body through: the drugs, the alcohol, the lifestyle I've lived the last 30 years!

I remember coming to in white room, with white walls, and people all around me covered in white sheets and thinking, F**k, I'm in the morgue. Then I heard a hissing noise next to my bed. Pssst, pssst. I looked down and there was this kid holding up a pen and a copy of "Bark at the Moon" . 'Will you sign this for me?' he asked. 'F**k off,' I told him. 'I'm dead.'

I was a free man, and I'd survived prison without being arse raped or beaten to a pulp. So how come I felt so f**king sad?

When I slept outside in winter, it wasn't unusual for me to wake up blue in the face with icicles on my nose. In those days, there was no such thing as hypothermia.

When I was growing up, no one ever recovered from cancer. I mean, the doc would always tell you it was survivable, but everyone knew that was just bullshit to calm you down.

You are 87% water; the other 13% keeps you from drowning.

The great thing about being a print journalist is that you are permitted to duck. Cameramen get killed while the writers are flat on the floor. A war correspondent for the BBC dedicated his memoir to 50 fallen colleagues, and I guarantee you they were all taking pictures. I am only alive because I am such a chicken.

Una escena que sorprende en los documentales de la naturaleza es ver al depredador, pacífico después de comer, al lado y conviviendo en armonía con los que serán su futuro alimento.

La de la Revolución Mexicana es una historia en la que mucho se mata y mucho se muere, en la que la vida humana parece valer muy poco y la supervivencia es tan accidental y casual como la muerte. Avitia rescata las frases en un corrido terrible: 'Como saben que en México se mata y que a diario se muere por acá'.

I still don't see how it would make me feel any better to think of the pain in my hip and spine as anything other than my most loyal and valuable companion, the continuous nonvoice in my ear that says, You got out alive and you still get to go.

You need to do better," Pan Rosenberg said before I could speak. He pointed upward. "Up there, almost no more Jews live." He did not bother to spare me from the truth the way my parents and others had when I was younger. There was no safety in hiding things anymore. "We are the last of our kind and down here we are alive. You owe it to your parents to go on.

There have been circuses from the times of the Romans and Greeks, our traditions centuries old. We had survived the Middle Ages, the Napoleonic Wars, the Great War. We would survive this, too.

No me he permitido pensar en esas cosas, sabiendo que, si me permitiera siquiera un goteo de recuerdos, me ahogaría en una marea que sería incapaz de frenar.

rid of the Jews and turned them in to the Germans

You need to do better," Pan Rosenberg said before I could speak. He pointed upward. "Up there, almost no more Jews live.

When one is trying to stay afloat in deep water, one grabs at any stick that is offered—and tries not to notice that the stick is in fact nothing more than a wisp of a reed, practically useless in the strong current.

Life can be cruel and uncomfortable at times. That doesn't define you. It's how we survive and create a colorful life with our experiences. Good and bad.

Instincts were his first line of defense. His body was his second. He trained it, kept it in fighting shape, just as he did any other weapon.

If we make it out of this, I'm going to need a hug—and a night of hot sex." "It's a deal." "What's