Quotes About Courage

Hope is wingèd — one wing faith-patience the other action-effort: and we must fly with both!

Don't just settle for hope — you are the keeper of an amazing silken, glowing, infinite-wingspan, soaring, heart-wildly-beating, singing-out-loud, unstoppable faith, courage, fortitude, spirit & soul that light your life from the inside out!

Let hope be your pulse Faith in every heartbeat Joy with every breath...

Hope is warmth against the cold winter of adversity.

...you sometimes see a woman who would have made a Joan of Arc in another century and climate, threshing herself to pieces over all the mean worry of housekeeping.

It was bewildering. He was sprawling through solidity. And ever the light grew brighter. Fear urged him to go back, but growth drove him on.

Here the train was halted. The Scotch half-breed slowly retraced his steps to the camp they had left. The men ceased talking. A revolver-shot rang out. The man came back hurriedly. The whips snapped, the bells tinkled merrily, the sleds churned along the trail; but Buck knew, and every dog knew, what had taken place behind the belt of river trees.

Suddenly, they saw its back end drop down, as into a rut, and the gee-pole, with Hal clinging to it, jerk into the air. Mercedes's scream came to their ears. They saw Charles turn and make one step to run back, and then a whole section of ice give way and dogs and humans disappear. A yawning hole was all that was to be seen. The bottom had dropped out of the trail. John Thornton and Buck looked at each other. You poor devil, said John Thornton, and Buck licked his hand.

We fight best, and die best, and live best, for what we love.

Now, you red-eyed devil, he said

What we wanted to do we went and did, on our legs upstanding, and we faced all reproof and censure on our legs upstanding, and did not hide behind the skirts of classical economists and bourgeois philosophers, nor behind the skirts of subsidized preachers, professors, and editors.

And, dying, he declined to die.

non bisogna essere schiavi che della bellezza. La serva e mandi al diavolo la folla imbecille. Il successo!

He felt the stress and strain of life, its fevers and sweats and wild insurgences—surely this was the stuff to write about! He wanted to glorify the leaders of forlorn hopes, the mad lovers, the giants that fought under stress and strain, amid terror and tragedy, making life crackle with the strength of their endeavor. And

So you're afraid, eh? he sneered. Yes, I said defiantly and honestly, I am afraid. That's the way with you fellows, he cried, half angrily, sentimentalizing about your immortal souls and afraid to die.

Under all his cowardice there was a courage of cowardice [...] that would impel him to do the very thing his whole nature protested against doing and was afraid of doing.

Sizin diÅŸleriniz sökülmüÅŸtür baylar, t?rnaklar?n?z köreltilmiÅŸtir! DiÅŸsiz ve t?rnaks?z ayaklanaca??n?z gün bir koyun sürüsü kadar zarars?z ve yumuÅŸak bir durumda olacaks?n?z!

Không nên tin vào b? ngoài, mà trÆ°á»›c h?t ph?i Ä'em ra thá»­ thách thá»±c t?.

Cesur bir erkeÄŸi ölürken seyretmek, bir korka??n hayat? için s?zlan???n? dinlemekten daha kolayd?r.

Porque Smith era cruel, con aquella crueldad característica de lo cobardes. Dispuesto siempre a humillarse y a huir ante los golpes o las injurias de un hombre, se vengaba de ello con los seres más débiles.

Though alone, he was not lost. 

He paid two dollars and a half a month rent for the small room he got from his Portuguese landlady, Maria Silva, a virago and a widow, hard working and harsher tempered, rearing her large brood of children somehow, and drowning her sorrow and fatigue at irregular intervals in a gallon of the thin, sour wine that she bought from the corner grocery and saloon for fifteen cents. From detesting her and her foul tongue at first, Martin grew to admire her as he observed the brave fight she made.

Buck did not cry out. He did not check himself, but drove in upon Spitz, shoulder to shoulder, so hard that he missed the throat. They rolled over and over in the powdery snow. Spitz gained his feet almost as though he had not been overthrown, slashing Buck down the shoulder and leaping clear. Twice his teeth clipped together, like the steel jaws of a trap, as he backed away for better footing, with lean and lifting lips that writhed and snarled.

Luchamos mejor, morimos mejor y vivimos mejor por aquello que amamos.