Quotes About Sacrifice

I want your innocence. I want your blind, unquestioning devotion to your father, your acceptance of who and what he is. I want you to look at me the way you look at him, knowing the worst. I want you to trust me, even when your brain tells you you shouldn't, I want you to ignore common sense and your lifelong need to protect yourself. I want you to give yourself to me, body and soul.

One sad thing about this world is that the acts that take the most out of you are usually the ones that people will never know about. (from 'Celestial Navigation')

Hazel understood. Being grown up meant doing what grown-ups wanted you to do. it meant sacrificing your imagination for rules. It meant sitting quietly in you chair while your best friend is helicoptered off for emergency eye surgery. It meant letting people say whatever they wanted to you.

You can't just kill a swan and wrap yourself in its skin, you know. It takes something from you. In her case it took the thing that she wanted most.

This is what it is to live in the world. You have to give yourself over to the cold, at least a little bit.

The trees were not Aletheia's gift to the wizards for their service, not living monuments to great men and women. They were monuments of a desperate act, necessitated because of foolishness and greed. The trees were not the wizards' respite. They were their sacrifice.

When girls set their sights on a career, they have to work it out of their systems. Otherwise the kitchen sink gets to be a kind of sacrificial altar.

Raised to be God-fearing, if not religious, both Violet and Faye came to think of all this - their lives as silent, fettered wives and mothers - as the trade-off for marrying well

The average life expectancy of a fighter pilot was no more than fifty to sixty flight hours.

To my surprise, nineteenth-century folk, always presented as Puritan and narrow-minded, turned out also to be energetic, tough, and sociable. It made me realize that there are major social and personal advantages to be had if people are capable of controlling themselves, being disciplined, and, if necessary, sacrificing themselves for the greater good. In that respect, we people of today might be able to learn more from the Victorians than we think.

After what others would call a fun day out together, we feel as if we have been at the Red Cross, donating blood.

In the end, one can only die for Sibylle. To love for her, my friends say, is degrading.

It is one thing to let go of the housekeeping. Quite another to relinquish being the center of your children's universe.

We are rich only through what we give, and poor only through what we refuse.

I'd like to give you my heart, but since that might be inconvenient, I've brought you someone else's.

Why me?" she asked, holding on to him. "Because you cared," he whispered. "You cared so much for your people, it broke your heart to see the pack in ruins. You cared so much for your mother, you risked your life for hers. You cared enough to save someone who wanted you dead. And because you walk like a queen.

I want to lay my kill at your feet.

Vivian, I'd like to give you my heart, but since that might be inconvenient I've brought you someone else's." "Rafe you jerk, this is a sheep's heart.

The dedicated life is the life worth living. You must give with your whole heart.

quoting an August 2005 speech by then president George W. Bush justifying staying the course in Iraq by saying, "We owe [the two thousand soldiers who had already died] something. We will finish the task that they gave their lives for."); Van Putten, Zeelenberg, and Van Dijk, "Who Throws Good Money after Bad?," 2010, 33 ("one of the most important reasons to continue the way in Iraq was to prevent acknowledging that soldiers who fell in battle died in vain").

Des milliers de filles ont monté un escalier, frappé à une porte derrière laquelle il y avait une femme dont elles ne savaient rien, à qui elles allaient abandonner leur sexe et leur ventre. Et cette femme, la seule personne alors capable de faire passer le malheur, ouvrait la porte, en tablier et en pantoufles à pois, un torchon à la main : "C'est pour quoi, mademoiselle?

Elle servait des pommes de terre et du lait du matin au soir pour que je sois assise dans un amphi à écouter parler de Platon

Lies like that are not a sin, they are a sacrifice.

Writing. Opening a vein in your wrist with a spoon.