Quotes About Sacrifice

My father used to say that there are two kinds of people in the world," Kaladin whispered, voice raspy. "He said there are those who take lives. And there are those who save lives.

Sometimes," Dalinar said, "the prize is not worth the costs.

Kaladin no había sabido, al criarse en el remoto Piedralar, lo afortunado que era su pueblo al haber evitado la batalla. El mundo entero guerreaba

If Taravangian killed a child, he'd do it not for vengeance. Not for fury. Not for wealth or renown. But because he sincerely thought the child's death was necessary. He would call it good, then? No. He would acknowledge it as evil, would say it stains his soul. He says... that's the point of having a monarch. A man to wallow in blood, to be stained by it and destroyed by it, so that others might not suffer.

Life before Death. Strength before Weakness. Journey before Destination.

Sometimes the prize is not worth the costs. The means by which we achieve victory are as important as the victory itself.

If you give up what you want most for what you think you should want more, you'll end up miserable.

But trading joy for less vulnerability is a deal with the devil. And the devil never pays up.

Awe and wonder are essential to the human experience. Wonder fuels our passion for exploration and learning, for curiosity and adventure. Researchers have found that awe "leads people to cooperate, share resources, and sacrifice for others" and causes them "to fully appreciate the value of others and see themselves more accurately, evoking humility.

Walking away from people we know and love, because of our support for strangers we really don't know, can barely believe, and definitely don't love, who FOR SURE won't be there to drive us to chemo or bring food over when the kids are sick; that is the shadow side of sorting.

Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah"—capture how daring greatly can feel more like freedom with a little battle fatigue than a full-on celebration.

When we spend our lives waiting until we are perfect or bulletproof before we walk into the arena, we ultimately sacrifice relationships and opportunities that may not be recoverable. We squander our precious time and we turn our backs on our gifts- those unique contributions that only we can make. Perfect and bulletproof are seductive but they don't exist in the human experience.

Belonging is a practice that requires us to be vulnerable, get uncomfortable, and learn how to be present with people without sacrificing who we are. When we sacrifice who we are, we not only feel separate from others, but we even feel disconnected from ourselves.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and desperate measures are often fertilized with bullshit.

It's easier to live disappointed than it is to feel disappointed. It feels more vulnerable to dip in and out of disappointment than to just set up a camp there. You sacrifice joy, but you suffer less pain.

I might die, Quinn, but my love for you never will.

Would I dance with you? Both forever and rather die. / It would be like dying, yes. Yes I would.

In its original Latin form, sacrifice means to make sacred or to make holy. I wholeheartedly believe that when we are fully engaged in parenting, regardless of how imperfect, vulnerable, and messy it is, we are creating something sacred.

This is the God of the gospel of grace. A God who, out of love for us, sent the only Son He ever had wrapped in our skin. He learned how to walk, stumbled and fell, cried for His milk, sweated blood in the night, was lashed with a whip and showered with spit, was fixed to a cross, and died whispering forgiveness on us all.

You tell others about Me - that I am a loving God. Your words are glib. My words are written in the blood of My only Son.

The death of Jesus Christ on the cross is His greatest single act of unwavering trust in His Abba's love. He plunged into the darkness of death, not fully knowing what awaited Him, confident that somehow, some way, His Abba would vindicate Him.

For the Christian one dislocating, self-impoverishing hour spent with a child living in a broken-down dump is worth more than all the burial mounds of rhetoric, all the enfeebled good intentions, all the mumbling and fumbling and tardiness of those Christians who are so busy cultivating their own holiness that they cannot hear the anguished cry of the child in the slum.

discipleship, or the following of Christ, was not simply the most important thing in life—it was the only thing.

As Emile Leger said when he left his mansion in Montreal to go live in a leper colony in Africa, "The time for talking is over.