Quotes About Sacrifice

From that visit I took away one lesson: Death is the price you pay for underestimating this tenacious enemy.

There is no glory in war—only good men dying terrible deaths.

The most precious commodity with which the Army deals is the individual soldier who is the heart and soul of our combat forces.       ââ'¬â€GENERAL J. LAWTON

You cannot choose your battlefield, God does that for you; But you can plant a standard Where a standard never flew. —STEPHEN CRANE, "The Colors

There's never been a noble war except in the history books and propaganda movies. It's a bloody, dirty, cruel, costly mistake in almost every case, as it was in this war that would end so badly. But the young soldiers can be and often are noble, selfless, and honorable. They don't fight for a flag or a president or mom and apple pie. When it comes down to it they fight and die for each other, and that is reason enough for them, and for me.

I can't promise you that I will bring you all home alive. But this I swear, before you and before Almighty God, that when we go into battle, I will be the first to set foot on the field, and I will be the last to step off, and I will leave no one behind. Dead or alive, we will all come home together. So help me, God.

One of the cost of holding a Federal office was geographic isolation in the nation's capital.

That's what it means to be a servant of Christ. You get your hands dirty among his earthly-and earthy-people. But you do it because you have life in your hands to give them. pg 25

History is apt to judge harshly those who sacrifice tomorrow for today.

The fact that so many young men and women enter the teaching profession shows that there are still some people willing to scrape along on comparatively little money for the pleasure of following an occupation in which they delight.

But, darling, you're my world, my life." She kissed me. "And what will you do? You have no job—nothing. How will you live? I can't bear to think of you going back to those cheap little jobs. Here with me you are safe. I can look after you, protect you. I can give you the world—anything you want." I remembered something I had read. "What does it profit a man," I quoted, "if in gaining the world he loses his own soul?

In our nation's popular culture, country life in the 1800s has often been portrayed as an idyllic experience, one that cultivated such quintessentially American values as self-reliance, rugged independence, a reverence for the land, a belief in the importance of hard work and self-sacrifice, and a willingness to fight when necessary for home, family, and community.

The solution presented itself in a flash of inspiration. He would sacrifice Ethel. The internal pressure generated by her murder would be so intense that he "would be liberated from all the bonds of mortality and would arrive at the stage of Redeemer."15

Reader, my story ends with freedom; not in the usual way, with marriage. I and my children are now free.

Eliza," said George, "people that have friends, and houses, and lands, and money, and all those things, can't love as we do, who have nothing but each other. ... And your loving me,—why, it was almost like raising one from the dead! I've been a new man ever since! And now, Eliza, I'll give my last drop of blood, but they shall not take you from me. Whoever gets you must walk over my dead body.

Deeds of heroism are wrought here more than those of romance, when, defying torture, and braving death itself, the fugitive voluntarily threads his way back to the terrors and perils of that dark land, that he may bring out his sister, or mother, or wife.

No, no, no!" said Tom, holding her small hands, which were clenched with spasmodic violence. "No, ye poor, lost soul, that ye mustn't do. The dear, blessed Lord never shed no blood but his own, and that he poured out for us when we was enemies. Lord, help us to follow his steps, and love our enemies.

Papa, do buy him! it's no matter what you pay," whispered Eva, softly, getting up on a package, and putting her arm around her father's neck. "You have money enough, I know. I want him." "What for, pussy? Are you going to use him for a rattle-box, or a rocking-horse, or what? "I want to make him happy." "An original reason, certainly.

No, no, no!" said Tom, holding her small hands, which were clenched with spasmodic violence. "No, ye poor, lost soul, that ye mustn't do. The dear, blessed Lord never shed no blood but his own, and that he poured out for us when we was enemies. Lord, help us

Ah, brave, manly heart,—smothering thine own sorrow, to comfort thy beloved ones!

You didn't give me a curl, Eva," said her father, smiling sadly. "They are all yours, papa," said she, smiling—"yours and mamma's; and you must give dear aunty as many as she wants. I only gave them to our poor people myself, because you know, papa, they might be forgotten when I am gone, and because I hoped it might help them remember. . . . You are a Christian, are you not, papa?" said Eva, doubtfully.

If I must be sold, or all the people on the place, and everything go to rack, why, let me be sold. I s'pose I can bar it as well as any on 'em," he added, while something like a sob and a sigh shook his broad, rough chest convulsively. "Mas'r always found me on the spot—he always will. I never have broke trust, nor used my pass no ways contrary to my word, and I never will. It's better for me alone to go, than to break up the place and sell all.

the heart has no tears to give,--it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence.

I am braver than I was because I have lost all; and he who has nothing to lose can afford all risks.