Quotes About Survival

He did not ever mistreat me. But it was no kindness; for I knew this must all end, that I would be returned to the cane fields and their brutality someday. And so I did not allow myself to grow comfortable, but instead scrambled after thermometers tossed in the grass, gathered his dropped scopes, carefully folded leaves into the long wooden box he called his vasculum, feeling each evening only relief that I had not been punished.

kidnappers generally roamed the coast, and in the rainy, grey dusk they would stun a freed man in the street and drag him half-conscious onto a ship bound for the Southern states, to make of him a slave again. This was not the only hazard, though it was the worst of them. White men were everywhere aggrieved, and they would sometimes rise up against us black devils, the miserable black scourge who would destroy their livelihood by labouring at cheaper rates.

Well, the main thing is to try not to die. I shall give you some advice on how to best bring that about.

and little grace or mercy behind me. I was nothing, I would die nothing, hunted

The condition of being alienated and "othered" reflects the ways in which navigating Western societies as a Black person is an endlessly unsettling experience, something that might be ripped whole from the pages of a speculative novel. Because of this, the search for lost cultural touchstones is a gesture towards survival: it is an Afrofuturistic act. At its heart it is the creation of a possible future based on a reconstructed, or reimagined past. In this way, a ware is wages against erasure.

What doesn't kill you, makes you fat.

A smart rabbit doesn't wait until the hounds are on her tail before she digs her burrow.

An empty belly is the best cook.

Y'know," he said and arched his back till his head reached the cereal shelf. "You know how they say suicides always happen in threes? Well, there's something to it. People around you start dying, and you begin to ask yourself what the hell makes you different, and what's keeping you alive anyway. It hit me like a Scud. I mean, I just didn't have the answers.

Time had no meaning; life had no meaning. The fierce struggle for survival in the abyss of Peleliu eroded the veneer of civilization and made savages of us all.

War is brutish, inglorious, and a terrible waste... The only redeeming factors were my comrades' incredible bravery and their devotion to each other. Marine Corps training taught us to kill efficiently and to try to survive. But it also taught us loyalty to each other - and love. That espirit de corps sustained us.

I am the harvest of man's stupidity. I am the fruit of the holocaust. I prayed like you to survive, but look at me now. It is over for us who are dead, but you must struggle, and will carry the memories all your life. People back home will wonder why you can't forget.

Kick him in the balls before he kicks you in yours

I am the harvest of man's stupidity. I am the fruit of the holocaust. I prayed like you to survive, but look at me now. It is over for us who are dead, but you must struggle, and will carry the memories all your life. People back home will wonder why you can't forget." During

Good poetry survives not when it is pretty or beautiful or nice but when it is true: accurate and honest.

Saying we should keep the two-party political system simply because it is working is like saying the Titanic voyage was a success because a few people survived on life rafts.

An argument for or against suicide? One lives, in spite of life.

The release loop was tight, but I thought if I was drowning I would be able to pull anything.

Mother: "I'm amazed that more people don't commit suicide. They just keep on living. It's so hard and they just keep doing it." Useful

Mother: "He used to say that you could lock me in a closet and I'd still get something out of it. I guess that's true." An

Of all evils, indeed, famine is the worst, and it destroys nothing so effectively as shame. For that which under other circumstances is worthy of respect, in the midst of famine is despised. Thus women snatched the food from the very mouths of their husbands and children, from their fathers, and what was most pitiable of all, mothers from their babes. And while their dearest ones were wasting away in their arms, they were not ashamed to take away from them the last drops that supported life.

Dear Diary, until now I didn't want to write about this in you because I tried to put it out of my mind, but ever since the Germans are here, all I think about is Marta. She was also just a girl, and still, the Germans killed her. But I don't want them to kill me!"

Yet, my little Diary, I don't want to die, I still want to live .. I would wait

At Auschwitz dying was so easy. Surviving was a full time job.