Quotes About Courage

J'ai léché les lèvres d'une louve, la colère, et je m'en suis servie pour illuminer, rire, protéger, mettre le feu en des lieux où il n'y avait ni lumière, ni nourriture, ni sÅ"urs, en des lieux sans merci. (...)

And of course I am afraid, because the transformation of silence into language and action is an act of self-revelation, and that always seems fraught with danger.

I want to write down everything I know about being afraid, but I'd probably never have enough time to write anything else.

Podemos aprender a trabajar y a hablar aún teniendo miedo, tal y como hemos aprendido a trabajar y a hablar cuando estamos cansadas. Nuestra educación nos ha enseñado a tener mayor respeto al miedo que a nuestra propia necesidad de hablar y definirnos, y mientras aguardamos en silencio a que al fin se nos conceda el lujo de perder el miedo, el peso del silencio va ahogando".

Dear goddess! Face-up again against the renewal of vows. Do not let me die a coward, mother. Nor forget how to sing. Nor forget song is a part of mourning as light is a part of sun.

Afraid is a country where they issue us passports at birth and hope we never seek citizenship in any other country.

I so despise people who keep dogs, they are cowards that havent got the curridge to bite themselfs

tell me this: how was it you came to love me? LADY. I don't know; but I'll try to remember. (Pause.) Well, you had the masculine courage to be rude to a lady. In me you sought the companionship of a human being and not merely of a woman. That honoured me; and, I thought, you too.

THE VOICE: The best I cannot call it, nor the worst. Its name is Dust; and like them all, it rolls: And therefore dizzy sometimes grows the race, And seems to be half foolish and half mad— Take courage, child—a trial, that is all!

A nigger that ain't afraid to die is the worse kind of nigger for the white man. He can't hold that power over you. That's what I learned when I killed that cat. I got the power of death too.

I seen a man grab hold to a fellow and cut off his arm. Cut it off at the shoulder. He had to work at it a while...but he cut it clean off. The man looked down saw his arm gone and started crying. After that he more dangerous with that one arm than the other man is with two. He got less to lose. There's a lot of one-arm men walking around.

This is how you survive the unsurvivable, this is how you lose that which you cannot bear to lose, this is how you reinvent yourself, overcome your abusers, fulfill your ambitions and meet the love of your life: by following what is true, no matter where it leads you.

The truth is humbling, terrifying, and often exhilarating. It blows the doors off the hinges and fills the world with fresh air.

Even when we lose an arm or a leg, there's not less of us but more. Human experience weighs more than human tissue.

The most valuable moments and experiences that life has to offer are found only along its most treacherous paths.

It was a great story and I admired her. And I also felt a little envious. Because that bloody tampon had been a secret weapon. And every woman had one. But only a woman like Debby would be brave enough to use it.

Unscripted, unedited, and wholly authentic people are almost universally admired, especially if they have flaws, are not afraid to make live, red-blooded mistakes, and rather than trying are busy simply being.

But then, look at me. My brain is incorrectly formed, and I'm shaped like a tube. Plus, I'm an alcoholic, a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, was raised in a cult and have no education. So, really, if you think about it, the only thing that separates me from the guy with the stinky foot and no teeth is a book deal and some cologne.

Nothing surprises me now, I tell him. I am stoic. I am Joan of Arc, with liver damage and an unused penis.

Nothing worth having comes easy is not about showing up early at the office. It's about showing up in your own life. And living inside the very moment you want to run away from.

I had always had the oddest feeling, consider it knowledge, that if I were ever to find myself inside the cockpit of a 767 with two dead piolets and afew hundred passengers in the cabin behind me, I would absolutely be able to land the ninety-thousand-pound jet.

This is the truest thing I know. Scars are nothing to hate, they are nothing to deny. They serve as our proof of what we survived, and there is nothing more beautiful than to have survived something.

A big, friendly-looking man approaches me. "Hey, I'm Bobby," he says with a thick Baltimore accent, "… and I'm an alcoholic.

Scars are nothing to hate, they are nothing to deny. They serve as our proof of what we've survived, and there is nothing more beautiful than to have survived something.