Quotes About Sacrifice

God take what He would, she said. And He did, and He did, and He did.

I got a tree on my back and a haint in my house, and nothing in between bu the daughter I am holding in my arms. No more running - from nothing. I will never run from another thing on this earth. I took one journey and I paid for the ticket, but let me tell you something, Paul D Garner: it cost too much! Do you hear me? It cost too much. Now sit down and eat with us or leave us be.

For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous, especially if it was her children she had settled on to love. The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit; everything, just a little bit, so when they broke its back, or shoved it in a croaker sack, well, maybe you'd have a little love left over for the next one.

That all they want, man, is they own misery. Ax em to die for you and they yours for life.

Too much tail. All that jewelry weighs it down. Like vanity. Can't nobody fly with all that shit. Wanna fly, you gotta give up the shit that weighs you down.

Our girlhood was spent like a found nickel on you. When you slept, we were quiet; when you were hungry, we cooked; when you wanted to play, we entertained you; and when you got grown enough to know the difference between a woman and a two-toned Ford, everything in this house stopped for you.

The price of wealth, historically, has been blood, annihilation, death, and despair.

Bodacious black Eves unredeemed by Mary, they are like panicked does leaping toward a sun that has finished burning off the mist and now pours its holy oil over the hides of game. God at their side, the men take aim. For Ruby.

How'd you get rid of her?' 'Killed her. Then I killed the me that killed her.' 'Who's left?' 'Me.

Era peligroso que una mujer que había sido esclava amara tanto algo, especialmente si ese algo eran sus propios hijos. Él sabía que lo mejor era querer un poquito, quererlo todo pero solo un poquito, de modo que cuando les rompieran la espalda o los arrojaran en un saco de desperdicios, te quedara un poco de amor para el siguiente

She loved nothing in the world except this woman's son, wanted him alive more than anybody, but hadn't the least bit of control over the predator that lived inside her. Totally taken over by her anaconda love, she had no self left, no fears, no wants, no intelligence that was her own.

They beat their children with one hand and stole for them with the other. The hands that felled trees also cut umbilical cords; the hands that wrung the necks of chickens and butchered hogs also nudged African violets into bloom; the arms that loaded sheaves, bales, and sacks rocked babies into sleep. They patted biscuits into flaky ovals of innocence—and shrouded the dead. They plowed all day and came home to nestle like plums under the limbs of their men.

Frieda came toward us, her brown stockings straining at the knees because she had tucked the toe under to hide a hole in the foot.

It hurt him, he would say, deeply hurt him, after all these years, but if you loved somebody as he did her, you had to think of them first. You couldn't be selfish with somebody you loved.

They seemed to have taken all of their smoothly cultivated ignorance, their exquisitely learned self-hatred, their elaborately designed hopelessness and sucked it all up into a fiery cone of scorn that had burned for ages in the hollows of their minds—cooled—and spilled over lips of outrage, consuming whatever was in its path. They danced a macabre ballet around the victim, whom, for their own sake, they were prepared to sacrifice to the flaming pit. Black

Too much tail. All that jewelry weighs it down. Like vanity. Can't nobody fly with all that shit. Wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.

What good is a man's life if he can't even choose what to die for?

If you want to fly, you have to give up everything that weighs you down.

When you deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Him, you die while you simultaneously truly live. That is when you experience the reality that "whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Matthew 16:25).

Is your heavenly Father getting your best, or is He being forced to settle for leftovers? Leftover time. Leftover service. Leftover money.

Faith isn't simply tied to belief. It is tied to an action. Faith is tied to your feet. The power of faith comes when you are willing to give the very thing that you need to someone else so God can give "it" back to you.

Men are often reluctant to give up their wants and their agendas, when necessary, for their wives.

All who want to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted" (2 Tim 3:12). So if a believer experiences no form of persecution, it may mean that he or she doesn't have a faith worth persecuting. Don't be a secret agent Christian: go public with your trust in Christ.

A man once told me, "Tony, my wife is killing me." I replied, "Well, you said you wanted to be more like Jesus, didn't you?