Quotes About Survival

if he failed to send the beasts back to be sacrificed again, the hunters and their kin would starve. Thus early societies learned that "the essence of life is that it lives by killing and eating; that's the great mystery that the myths have to deal with.

The wilderness] had caressed him, and—lo!—he had withered; it had taken him, loved him, embraced him, got into his veins, consumed his flesh, and sealed his soul to its own by the inconceivable ceremonies of some devilish initiation.

Don't be too sure,' he continued. "The other day I took up a man who hanged himself on the road. He was a Swede, too.' 'Hanged himself! Why, in God's name?' I cried. He kept on looking out watchfully. 'Who knows? The sun too much for him, or the country perhaps.

No fear can stand up to hunger, no patience can wear it out, disgust simply does not exist where hunger is; and as to superstition, beliefs, and what you may call principles, they are less than chaff in a breeze.

The earth for us is a place to live in, where we must put up with sights, with sounds, with smells too, by Jove!—breathe dead hippo, so to speak, and not be contaminated.

We are snared into doing things for which we get called names, and things for which we get hanged, and yet the spirit may well survive - survive the condemnations, survive the halter, by Jove! And there are things - they look small enough sometimes too - by which some of us are totally and completely undone.

Is there a spot on earth where such a man is unknown, an ominous survival testifying to the eternal fitness of lies and impudence?

It looked like a high-handed proceeding; but it was really a case of legitimate self-defense. You can't breathe dead hippo waking, sleeping, and eating, and at the same time keep your precarious grip on existence.

It was inconceivable how he had existed, how he had succeeded in getting so far, how he had managed to remain -- why he did not instantly disappear.

No hay miedo que pueda hacer frente al hambre, no hay paciencia que pueda hacerlo desaparecer, la repugnancia simplemente no existe donde existe el hambre; y en cuanto a la superstición, y lo que podríamos llamar principios, tiene menos peso que la hojarasca de viento.

AÈ™a cum se leg?nau pe pietrele albe, în mijlocul mulÈ›imii gr?bite È™i zgomotoase, p?reau niÈ™te fiinÈ›e dintr-o alt? specie - o specie pierdut?, singuratic?, lipsit? de memorie È™i osândit? s? piar?; niÈ™te naufragiaÈ›i, niÈ™te naufragiaÈ›i nes?buiÈ›i, veseli È™i nebuni, care petrec în toiul furtunii, pe muchea lunecoas? a unei stânci perfide.

breathe dead hippo, so to speak, and not be contaminated.

Todas sus costillas eran visibles y las articulaciones de sus miembros parecían nudos; y cada uno llevaba un collar de hierro, atados entre sí por una cadena que oscilaba en un tintinear rítmico.

No hay miedo que pueda hacer frente al hambre, no hay paciencia que la soporte, el asco simplemente no existe donde el hambre es; y en cuanto a las supersticiones, creencias, todo eso que ustedes llamarían principios, son menos que paja enfrentada a la brisa.

When your ship fails you, your whole world seems to fail you; the world that made you, restrained you, has taken care of you. It is as if the souls of men floating on an abyss and in touch with immensity had been set free for any excess of heroism, absurdity, or abomination.

Long after he had vanished, Nostromo, lifting his eyes up to the sky, muttered, I am not dead yet.

Those striving with unreasonable forces know it well,—the shipwrecked castaways in boats, wanderers lost in a desert, men battling against the unthinking might of nature, or the stupid brutality of crowds.

Some of them must be dead, he believed. The rest would go on fighting. . . .

Il restera toujours la peur. Un homme peut détruire toute chose en lui-même : l'amour, la foi, la haine et même le doute. Mais aussi longtemps qu'il tient à la vie, il ne peut pas détruire la peur.

If I went out with a couple of rifles and a gun bearer, and twenty or thirty beaters, to hunt a lion, I should not feel that the lion had much chance, and so the pleasure of the hunt would be lessened in proportion to the increased safety which I felt.

For every age is fed on illusions, lest men should renounce life early and the human race come to an end.

Mustard gas was stubborn, clinging to the ground as long as three days. Heavier than air, it settled into craters and trenches where men had taken refuge. It ruined food supplies.

What do you do when it rains? The captain answered frankly. I get wet.

You have deep-seated survival anxieties. And you don't like bigots, bullies, snobs or hypocrites. Subconsciously there are many people you hate. Consciously, sir, consciously, Yossarian corrected in an effort to help. I hate them consciously.