Quotes About Sacrifice

False is the idea of utility that sacrifices a thousand real advantages for one imaginary or trifling inconvenience; that would take fire from men because it burns, and water because one may drown in it; that has no remedy for evils except destruction.

Every luxury must be paid for, and everything is a luxury, starting with being in the world.

Why does a man who is truly in love insist that this relationship must continue and be "lifelong"? Because life is pain and the enjoyment of love is an anesthetic. Who would want to wake up halfway through an operation?

War makes men barbarous because, to take part in it, one must harden oneself against all regret, all appreciation of delicacy and sensitive values. One must live as if those values did not exist , and when the war is over one has lost the resilience to return to those values.

Io non credo che possa finire. Ora che ho visto cos'è guerra, cos'è guerra civile, so che tutti, se un giorno finisse, dovrebbero chiedersi: - E dei caduti che facciamo? perché sono morti? - Io non saprei cosa rispondere. Non adesso, almeno. Né mi pare che gli altri lo sappiano. Forse lo sanno unicamente i morti, e soltanto per loro la guerra è finita davvero.

Esistono amori che non siano egoismo, che non vogliano ridurre l'uomo o la donna al proprio comodo?

In the island the gods are killed, killed like animals. And the man who kills a god becomes a god himself.

Ci si sente umiliati perché si capisce, si tocca con gli occhi, che al posto del morto potremmo essere noi: non ci sarebbe differenza, e se viviamo lo dobbiamo al cadavere imbrattato. Per questo ogni guerra è una guerra civile: ogni caduto somiglia a chi resta, e gliene chiede ragione.

Going to war is like going to law - the only certain outcome is the cost

I hurt with you. I bled with you - not only because we're bonded but because of the love I have for you. -- Eric Northman

It may have seemed strange to you that a professing Christian father so freely gave you, a Christian son, to enlist in the volunteer service. My reason was that I regarded this as purely a defensive war. A war in defense of our homes and firesides, of our wives and children. Threatened with invasion and subjugation, it seemed to me that nothing was left us but stern resistance or abject submission.

No person ever really lives until he has found something worth dying for.

The act of love strongly resembles torture or surgery.

His was the kind of beauty for which you would pay the price of a lifetime of sorrow and all the varieties of rage. Eventually, you would have to go to church to get rid of him.

But the very worst kind of collaboration was a French woman sleeping with a German. They were called the horizontal collaborationists.

Because of their sacrifice, you must escape. If you don't, everything up until now will have been in vain." "But

Let me explain something to you, Monsieur Bernard. Back in 1940, when this hell began, I realized that my first duty as a Christian was to overcome my self-centeredness, that I had to inconvenience myself when one of my human brethren was in danger—whoever he may be, or whether he was a born Frenchman or not. I've simply decided not to turn my back.

They say the average number of days of actual combat for a veteran is around eighty. By the time the war was over the Army told me I had 411 combat days, which entitled me to $20 extra

In Alsace-Lorraine I saw Pope stick his leg out from behind a tree to get a million-dollar wound so he'd be sent home; only a heavy round came in and took his leg off. He survived and went home with one leg missing. Another

Born on St. Valentine's Day in 1913, Jimmy Hoffa was seven years older than Frank Sheeran. Yet both grew to manhood in the same Great Depression, a time when management normally held the upper hand and people struggled just to put food on the table. Jimmy Hoffa's father, a coal miner, died when he was seven. His mother worked in an auto plant to support her children. Jimmy Hoffa quit school at age fourteen to go to work to help his mother. Hoffa

Ladies of Fashion starve their happiness to feed their vanity, and their love to feed their pride.

He that dies a martyr proves that he was not a knave, but by no means that he was not a fool.

When God wanted to defeat sin, His ultimate weapon was the sacrifice of His own Son. On Christmas Day two thousand years ago, the birth of a tiny baby in an obscure village in the Middle East was God's supreme triumph of good over evil.

A great love affair makes us feel alive, vivid and free. But that feeling comes at a price. We are never truly happy while we are at the mercy of another person.