Quotes About Sacrifice

Yes, it's funny isn't it. You try to do what's best for the people you love, and you just end up in trouble for your efforts.

Only when her magic began to return did she realize just how much she'd given away.

Good God, Busara. Simon would have put on a bacon Speedo and jumped into a piranha-infested swimming pool for Kat. You should have given him a heads-up, but it wouldn't have stopped him for a second. - Elvis

Men like us, our lives aren't really our own. There will always be someone who needs help. Someone we need to protect. I spent years trying to run from my fate, but now i've finally come to terms with it, we need to accept our fate. The dreams of too many people depend on us.

Do not forget, some give little, and it is much for them, others give all, and it costs them no effort; who then has given most?

The other one he loved like a slave, like a madman and like a beggar. Why? Ask the dust on the road and the falling leaves, ask the mysterious God of life; for no one knows such things. She gave him nothing, no nothing did she give him and yet he thanked her. She said: Give me your peace and your reason! And he was only sorry she did not ask for his life.

The Bird of Hermes is my name, eating my wings to make me tame.

Yes, I'm going to die with him. I'm going to die for the sake of Hiroki's love for me and my foolishness.

He loved me...He loved me so much he sought me out at the risk of being attacked. He was in danger this whole time, with every step. In fact, the wound in his side, the wound on his shoulder...came as a result of him trying to find me.

Loving someone always requires you to not love others.

Shinji slowly fell forward onto his face. Debris bounced up on impact. It took less than thirty seconds for the rest of his body to die. The memento of his beloved uncle--the earring worn by the woman he loved--was now stained with the blood running down Shinji's left ear, reflecting the glow from the red flames of the farm building. And so the boy known as the Third Man, Shinji Mimura, was dead.

You can sacrifice and not love. But you cannot love and not sacrifice.

Working for love is a curse. Working from love is a ministry.

Anyone can give away something expensive, but only those who understand sacrifice can give away something valuable.

Passion always looks like sacrifice to people who are not in love.)

The truth is, Jesus didn't die for junk.

Have you ever been betrayed? Have you ever been cut to the bone, stabbed in the back? Have you ever given someone your whole heart only to find out they used your heart to beat you with it? Have you ever laid down your life for someone? Have you ever served with reckless abandonment and in return got back a list of things that you failed to do?

The truth is that, in times of turmoil, people look for a scapegoat to sacrifice. Marie Antoinette just happened to be the French Revolution's favorite It girl. To be fair, Marie Antoinette lived in a world which she was expected to obey her husband as if he were God,, to spill forth children as if she were Eve--- and then accept that aristocrats ate cake while peasants had no bread. After all, it was divine will and all that.

And so I make a pact with the devil, or in this case, my mommy.

You never realize it until you're pregnant, or holding your baby in your arms, but your heart, soul and peace of mind will never be yours again. The tiny hijackers take over before they draw their first breaths, and you would do anything to keep them safe. Anything.

I had thought, once, that I couldn't ever be a mother because I'd passed at the chance to raise my own son. But this summer had shown me--Matthew and Monica had shown me--that being a mother wasn't one thing. It was an indefinable, eternal state of love and acceptance, sacrifice and forgiveness. And hope. Because being a mother was nothing if not hope.

I want you to be proud of me for what I did, giving him to Monica and Sanjay. It was the hardest thing I'll ever do in my life, and I have to believe it was the right thing.

You can't have a child and not experience terror and heartache in some way. Your little hijacker will hold you hostage for the rest of your life, and there's no getting around that—not by placing the child for adoption, not by abandoning the child, not by being as perfect a mother as possible. Your heart, naked and vulnerable, is now in the form of another person, and your life is never completely your own again.

I didn't raise my child, but I was still his mother, and the fact was both indescribably precious and painful.