Quotes About Courage

I'd rather walk than ride the airplane, I can fall on the ground flat on my face and die that way.

I promise I shall never give up and that I'll die yelling and laughing.

And so we picked up our bags, he the trunk with his one good arm and I the rest, and staggered up to the cable-car stop; in a moment rolled down the hill with our legs dangling to the sidewalk from the jiggling shelf, two broken-down heroes of the Western night.

I haven't the courage, or perhaps the hardness, to withstand the tremendous pathos of this life. I love life's casual beauty- fear its awful strength.

I don't want to be courageous, my emotions are against it; I want to be happy

Put down the pen someone else gave you. No one ever drafted a life worth living on borrowed ink. Get to San Francisco. Get to San Francisco in defiance of your geography, your ancestry and the lonely change rattling sad excuses in your pocket. Fuel up on pie and diner coffee and mystic visions and the freedom of not knowing what's coming next except that you're burning the road to outrun it.

But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.

There was something virile in her attitude toward tragedy, as though she were defying God to knock off the chip He Himself had placed on her shoulder.

Tienes que hacerlo! ¡Tienes que hacerlo o te morirás! ¡Venga, maldito idiota, habla con ella! ¿Qué coño te pasa? ¿Es que todavía no estás lo suficientemente cansado de andar por ahí solo?

Human courage is an opiate but opiates are human too. If God is an opiate so am I. Therefore eat me. Eat the night

Now, Sal, we're leaving everything behind us and entering a new and unknown phase of things. All the years and troubles and kicks—and now this! so that we can safely think of nothing else and just go on ahead with our faces stuck out like this, you see, and understand the world as, really and genuinely speaking, other Americans haven't done before us—they were here, weren't they? The Mexican war. Cutting across here with cannon.

All our best men are laughed at in this nightmare land.

In fact I realized I had no guts anyway, which I've long known. but I have joy.

Fighting for your life is a fucking ball. As long as you didn't get slaughtered.

He was beaten (he knew that); but he was not broken.

It is far easier to see brave men die than to hear a coward beg for life.

Between us and the bottom of the sea was less than an inch of wood. And yet, I aver it, and I aver it again, I was unafraid.

I was not made for the desk and counting-house, for petty business squabbling, and legal jangling.

Well, Buck my boy.

Any man who was a man could travel alone.

Also, as I looked at the mite of a youth with the heart of a lion, I thought, this is the type that on occasion rears barricades and shows the world that men have not forgotten how to die.

In a flash Buck knew it. The time had come. It was to the death.

Beauty Smith was cruel in the way that cowards are cruel…he revenged himself, in turn, upon creatures weaker than he. All life likes power, and Beauty Smith was no exception. Denied the expression of power amongst his own kind, he fell back upon the lesser creatures and there vindicated the life that was in him.

Jack London (January 12, 1876 – November 22, 1916), was an American author who wrote The Call of the Wild and other books. A pioneer in the then-burgeoning world of commercial magazine fiction, he was one of the first Americans to make a huge financial success from writing. Source: Wikipedia