Quotes About Sacrifice

What you give, Momo, is yours forever. What you keep is lost for all time.

Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love.

This book is to be neither an accusation nor a confession, and least of all an adventure, for death is not an adventure to those who stand face to face with it. It will try simply to tell of a generation of men who, even though they may have escaped shells, were destroyed by the war.

He fell in October 1918, on a day that was so quiet and still on the whole front, that the army report confined itself to the single sentence: All quiet on the Western Front. He had fallen forward and lay on the earth as though sleeping. Turning him over one saw that he could not have suffered long; his face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come.

We were eighteen and had begun to love life and the world; and we had to shoot it to pieces. The first bomb, the first explosion, burst in our hearts. We are cut off from activity, from striving, from progress. We believe in such things no longer, we believe in the war." - All Quiet On The Western Front, Ch. 5

When, with growing self-awareness, he experiences his relation to an opponent, and the sacrificed realizes his identity with the sacrificiant, and vice versa, the hitherto cosmic opposition of light and darkness is experienced as an opposition between human or divine twins, and the long succession of fraternal feuds in mythology opens with the squabbles between Osiris and Set, Baal and Mot.7

The fact that, for the Great Mother, father and son are nothing but the fertilizing phallus can also be formulated from the masculine standpoint by saying that victor and victim are always the same: the triumphant sacrificer himself becomes a future sacrifice. Consciousness

Everywhere the female is "terrible"; she is the seducer, the instrument of castration, cause of the two tree-fellings and of the death of the bull. But, despite everything, she is not terrible only; she is also the fruitful mother goddess, who is impregnated by the splinter of wood in order to bring forth the seduced, slain, and sacrificed Bata as her son.

The loneliness of Prometheus on the rock or of Christ on the cross is the sacrifice they have to endure for having brought fire and redemption to mankind.

For [the Mother Goddess,] loving, dying, and being emasculated are the same thing.

Those soldiers belonging to the victorious side whose blood has oozed into the ground and whose hearts have ceased beating, have they partaken in the triumph as well as those who are unscarred and busy draining cups of sake to each other's glorious deeds? I rather think they belong instead to the defeated." ... "You mean that those who are killed all belong to the defeated, regardless of which side they were on?

I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat.

The truth is, I love Firestar now as much as I ever did, and I'll watch over him forever, knowing that he can never be mine. He belongs to Sandstorm and to ThunderClan. But my heart is his, and always will be.

Kill me," he rasped at Clear Sky. "Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you won." -Gray Wing

Stormfur... You'll have to go on without me, brother. Save the Clan.

Fireheart dashed to the warrior's side. Cloudtail was standing stiff-legged, every hair in his pelt on end as if he were facing an enemy. His eyes were fixed on the limp heap of tabby fur huddled at his paws. "Why, Fireheart?" Cloudtail wailed. "Why her?" Fireheart knew, but rage and grief made it hard to speak. "Because Tigerstar wants the pack to get a taste of cat blood," he rasped. The dead cat lying in front of them was Brindleface.

I will be loyal to my Clan above everything. What I want doesn't matter. The Clan must always come first.

You have sacrified so much. And our Clan walks a safer path now. With this life, I give you pride, so that you may know your own worth and the worth of your Clan. Thank you for raising Whitestorm. You were chosen long ago, and StarClan has never regretted its choice.

Graystripe pushed past Tigerheart and Whitestorm and crouched beside his old friend. "I would have taken your place if you had let me". His voice was hoarse with grief.

Every sacrifice I make is for the good of my Clan—and for the other Clans around the lake. Even if that means sacrificing myself.

We can't save everyone...not all the time.

Join you? After everything you've done? I'd rather die!

He gave his life to save the thing that mattered most to him: his Clanmates," he meowed softly. "He truly has the stars at his paws now. You will see him again, when it is time.

Our elders, and our elders' kin, and their kin before them, fought to keep Sunningrocks in our territory. Many of them lost their lives, giving up their last breath for stones that belong to us. Can we give up where they did not, turn tail and flee when they kept fighting so that their kits could hunt and play and bask on these rocks? Will you fight with me now, in honor of all our elders and all our unborn kits?