Quotes About Sacrifice

Expiring for love is beautiful but stupid.

Mas los que comparecieron para la lucha ya no la iniciaron en la pista, sino entre la pista y el altar

How can I truly serve others if I'm also serving myself, or my ego?

Honestly?" Logan shrugged. "I didn't know it could kill me. If I'd ever heard that, I forgot it a long time ago. But I knew it was dangerous." "Then why take the risk?" Stone asked. Logan turned his head to look at me. "Because she was worth it.

On one side self-indulgence presses me hard; on another covetousness strives to make an inroad; my belly wishes to be a God to me, in place of Christ

presero posto con un sospiro e con l'espressione tipica dei primi martiri cristiani quando cercavano di mettersi comodi contro il palo del supplizio.

War still was the stern school where men learnt virtue, duty, forgetfulness of self, faithfulness unto death.

What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus; What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Oh! precious is the flow That makes me white as snow; No other fount I know, Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Now by this I'll overcome— Nothing but the blood of Jesus; Now by this I'll reach my home— Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Oh! precious is the flow That makes me white as snow; No other fount I know, Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Even our tears of repentance need to be washed in the blood of the Lamb.

Champions distinguish themselves from all others in that they are willing to sacrifice, suffer, and do everything that the nonchampions will not do.

How do you not try to get something you want? How do you stop caring about the thing that you care about the most? How do you erase the other half of your own self?

He stared at me. She liked you, boy. The intensity of his voice and eyes made me blink. Yes, I said. She did it or you, you know. What? Gave up herself for a while there. She loved you that much. What an incredibly lucky kid you were.

The price of peace had been high: expelling himself from the gang, proclaiming himself a traitor, banishing his beloved pet. For such a price, a peace should be excellent. Yet when Palmer reached for it, tried to taste it, it was not there.

What about the war?' the young woman sitting on Chance's left said, leaning close to him. 'The war? Which war?' said Chance. 'I've seen many wars on TV.' 'Alas,' the woman said, 'in this country, when we dream of reality television wakes us. To millions the war, I suppose, is just another TV program. But out there, at the front, real men are giving their lives.

Brother fought against brother, fathers swung axes against sons in front of their mothers. An invisible force divided people, split families, addled brains. Only the elders remained sane, scurrying from one side to the other, begging the combatants to make peace. They cried in their squeaky voices that there was enough war in the world without starting one in the village.

After that, Mrs. Hansen stopped visiting. Mom receded from a lot of my memories and Dad came in clearer focus, making breakfast in Mom's place, driving me to school on the days it rained. When Mom showed up, she was a force, sparkling at dinner parties, running around the kitchen cooking four-course dinners, but it seemed to cost her. She stayed at that level—50 percent of her—for a couple months.

Rodolphe manages to protect her from those who would ruin her, and eventually she is redeemed and sent to a convent, where her innate goodness is instantly recognized and she is made an abbess. (She dies from the honor).

You don't really want my side of the story. You don't want to understand me, know me, to crawl inside of my head. You don't want to feel the things I've felt. You just want to know that one thing: why. Fine. Here's why: Her. I did it all for her.

Rye wondered if loving another person was a trap—that eventually you had to either lose them or lose yourself.

He wondered if the German girl ever knew that someone had loved her so much that he painted her twice on the cold cement wall of a machine-gun pillbox.

And what she loved about Lydia's play: that it gets at this idea that true sacrifice is painless.

True sacrifice is painless.

Oh, she said, that, and loosened her grip. She must've heard this question a hundred times, because she turned away and looked out the window. There's meat sewn in the corset, she said more quietly. Beef liver and offal. She shrugged. Provides some extra here, too. She patted her chest. The cat knows that if he growls but refrains from biting, he'll get a fine meal. And now she glanced at the driver again. Me too, I guess. If I growl, but don't bite, I get to eat.