Quotes About Sacrifice

La paternidad es el pago de una deuda. Pero… ¿quién quiere pagar una deuda de la que puede escaparse? En apariencia, quienes no tienen hijos se libran con alguna artimaña. Además, ¿de qué sirve pagar una deuda a quien no se la debes? Sólo la madre más retorcida siente compensados sus desvelos por el hecho de que, finalmente, la vida de su hija resulte tan horrorosa como la suya.

Incredibly, the self-starved never appear capable of taking any pleasure in the very vessel for which they've sacrificed.

Ese altruismo compulsivo parecía abnegación, sacrificio, pero era algo más escalofriante. Si Carol ya no tenía ni la más remota idea de lo que podía desear para ella, ¿qué sacrificaba? A Jackson le entristeció observar que, con los años, su mujer había reemplazado de un modo insidioso el placer con la virtud.

Then the same painless generosity spread to everything in a giddy hurtling rush, like that little threshold you cross when cleaning out closets, and suddenly, instead of agonizing over every heel-worn but still wearable pair of boots, parting with all the junk you'll never use anyway is no longer a sacrifice but a joy.

Saul fell upon his sword to avoid suffering. Jesus stretched himself upon the cross to take away ours. Saul's suicide cheated his enemies. Jesus' sacrifice cheated death.

Mothers' bodies are not their own. The happiest ones seem to have forgotten what it is like to want themselves back at all.

Girls will often set aside their own wishes to help a needy friend.

We can best help our children not by sacrificing ourselves for them, but by trying to fulfill our own lives. When we are involved in an honest pursuit of our own goals, we serve as positive role models for our children.

Dying for someone is easy." J.T. murmured now; as if reading my mind."Living for yourself, that's hard.

Money was worthless, which meant putting food on the table required exhausting, hard work.

Life and love get complicated. But love and the right relationship is worth it.

That's what families are for, don't ya know? To love each other to death, all the while ripping their hearts out.

Do you love him?' 'Yes.' 'Do you love him enough to hurt a lot of people who don't deserve to be hurt?' 'How do you expect me to answer that?' 'It's a tough question, but you do need to answer it. Not now, but over the next hours and days.

I thought of what I'd allowed myself to become, for you. I never wanted that bloody child. I only wanted you.

He left immediately, of course. He never wasted a beat when it came to Scarlett. She was his lifeforce, his meaning. He was nothing before Scarlett and he would return to nothing after her. When she needed him, he came to life, like a marionette taken out of a box.

Men don't know, she thinks, they don't know how having a baby makes you protective of your skin, your body, your space. When you spend all day giving yourself to a baby in every way that it's possible to give yourself to another human being, the last thing you want at the end of the day is a grown man wanting you to give him things too.

She is a mother again at fifty-five. She is making packed lunches in the mornings and writing down term dates in her diary. She is doing two school runs a day and putting someone else before her at every juncture of her life.

So here's me, working my-fucking-self to death, day in day out, never spend a penny on anything, not a fucking penny. Single-handedly trying to get us a place to live, and you're just going to the pub with some slag called Keziah who I've never even fucking heard of.

The idea that Justin had sacrificed his life not for the glamorous refurbished version of Henry Lamb but for the original, slightly crappy version has filled his soul with rightness and substance. Henry Lamb was enough, he'd thought; he didn't need to be anybody else.

In some ways, yes,' she replies. 'When you are a parent, not being able to feed your child is just about the worst, most soul-destroying thing imaginable. And now I can feed you. I can clothe you. I can give you warm beds to sleep in—' 'But they're not our beds.

All the fires of hell could burn for a thousand years and it wouldn't equal what I feel for you in one minute of the day. I love you so much there is no pleasure in it. Nothing but torment. Because if I could dilute what I feel for you to the mil­lionth part, it would still be enough to kill you. And even if it drives me mad, I would rather see you live in the arms of that cold, soulless bastard than die in mine," Merripen said to Win.

I'm not good enough for you. But no one is. And most men, good or bad, have limits to what they would do, even for someone they love. I have none. No God, no moral code, no faith in anything. Except you. You're my religion. I would do anything you asked. I would fight, steal, kill for you." -Kev to Win

Bending his head over hers, Leo murmured, "When I give you away at the altar, Bea, I want you to remember something. I'm not really giving you away. I'm merely allowing him the chance to love you as much as the rest of us do.

I'd rather be insane with you than sane without you. - Jake to Lydia