Quotes About Sacrifice

If they break through the wall, they will burn the ships—our only way of getting home, the only thing that makes us an army instead of refugees.

I was not careful. I was reckless, headlong. He was another knife, I could feel it. A different sort, but a knife still. I did not care. I thought: give me the blade. Some things are worth spilling blood for.

He was watching me, his eyes as deep as earth. "Will you come with me?" he asked. The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail to Troy and I would follow, even into death. "Yes," I whispered. "Yes.

You chose her," he says. "Over me." "Over your pride." The word I use is hubris. Our word for arrogance that scrapes the stars, for violence and towering rage as ugly as the gods.

You chose her," he says. "Over me." "Over your pride." "My life is my reputation. It is all I have. I will not live much longer. Memory is all I can hope for. You know this. And you would let Agamemnon destroy it? Would you help him take it from me?

As it turns out, I did kill pigs that night after all

I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me. If I had words to speak such a thing, I would have. But there were none that seemed big enough for it, to hold that swelling truth.

I let the pebbles tumble to the ground from my fingers, where they lie, haphazard or purposeful, an augury or an accident. If Chiron were here, he could read them, tell us our fortunes. But he is not here. "What if he will not beg?" I ask. "Then he will die. They will all die. I will not fight until he does." His chin juts, bracing for reproach. I am worn out. My arm hurts where I cut it, and my skin feels coated with unwholesome sweat. I do not answer.

This, out of all of it, was perhaps the strangest: that he was their commander now. He would be expected to know them all, their names and armor and stories. He no longer belongs to me alone.

These are the little losers in the bunny derby, but they lose on a different route than the Mariannes, or the ones you see in the supermarket on the nights when they double the green stamps, coming in junk cars, plodding the bright aisles, snarling at their cross sleepy kids.

For the expendable marriage, you give the expendable gift.

And, dying, bless the hand that gave the blow.

We are, all of us, utterly committed and deeply devoted to our style, our way, our approach to life. We have absolutely no intention of giving it up. Not even for love. So God creates an environment where we have to. It's called marriage.

El corazón de una madre es algo inmenso y glorioso. El corazón de mi madre era amplio, fue dilatado por el sufrimiento y años de aferrarse a Jesús mientras era malentendida, ignorada y juzgada por aquellos a quienes más amaba. Incluyéndome a mí. Le costó mucho amar, le costó mucho ser madre. Siempre es así. Pero te diría que bien valió la pena; que no hay otra forma.

Jesus lived the way he did in this world, for this world, because his hope was set beyond this world; that is the secret of his life. "Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he's there, in the place of honor, right alongside God" (Hebrews 12:2 THE MESSAGE).

As did Jesus, when he said to his dear ones, "I am sending you out like sheep among wolves" (Matt. 10:16). The metaphor so perfectly describes our situation we almost want to smile—like when the young bride and groom are waving good-bye and the grandfather leans over to the grandmother and whispers, "They have no idea what they've just gotten themselves into." The humor of absurd understatement. But

what you must cling to is that you have died with Christ in the cross; sin no longer has to rule over you. You have a choice!

May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world" (Gal. 6: 14).

F]orgiveness is not saying it didn't matter; it is not saying we simply choose to overlook the offense. Forgiveness is saying the cross is enough—we require no further payment than Jesus paid. Forgiveness is releasing the person to God for him to deal with.

I give the Self Life to you, God. I abandon it, release it, deny it, turn it over to you. I'd much rather have you.

Jesus, I surrender the Self Life to you.

I am surrendering it, turning it over to Jesus, relinquishing its every right.

As Athanasius said, "He became what we are that we might become what he is.

And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you-ask what you can do for your country. My citizens of the world. Ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.