Quotes About Sacrifice

Nothing else mattered. Of course there was "the rest of my life," both present (my degree course) and future (job, salary, social position, retirement, pension, death). You could say that I put this part of my life on hold. Except that's not right: she was my life, and the rest wasn't. Everything else could and must be sacrificed, with or without thought, as and when necessary. Though "sacrifice" implies loss. I never felt a sense of loss.

Heroes become traitors, traitors become martyrs.

She'd been imagining for the last fifteen or more years that if you disappeared, if you abandoned a wife and child, you did so for a better life: more happiness, more sex, more money, more of whatever was missing from your previous life.

If you saved yourself, you might also save those around you, those you loved. And since you would do anything in the world to save those you loved, you did anything in the world to save yourself. And because there was no choice, equally there was no possibility of avoiding moral corruption. —

The pigs and sheep you see walking around today are zombies compared to their effervescent ancestors on the Ark. They've had the stuffing knocked out of them. And some of them, like the turkey, have to endure the further indignity of having the stuffing put back into them – before they are braised or boiled.

Ragana, pagalvojau. Jeigu pasaulyje yra moteris, kuri? gali ?simyl?ti ir vis tiek manyti, kad gyvenimo verta atsisakyti, tai toji moteris yra Veronika.

I tried to save her, I failed. I tried to stop her drinking, I failed. I don't blame her, it's way beyond that. And I remember what you told me back then—that she was more likely to get hurt than me. But I can't take it anymore. I can't face another ten days of it, let alone another ten years. So Martha's going to look after her.

Pierdes el mundo por una mirada? Pues claro que sí. Para eso es el mundo: para perderlo en las circunstancias apropiadas.

Mary: "Don't be spiky, when I only want what you want – for you and Tony to walk into the sunset together." Mabel: "Then why turn up looking like a cross between a Vogue fashion plate and a case of dynamite?" Mary: "Well, I can't make it too easy for him.

First, you hand over some basics--overwhelming joy, existential angst, a giving-in to desire, etc. And then you promise to withstand talking idly about the weather, to encourage cliché, to uphold the virtues of average. You hand over the need to be understood and, in return, you get a bar of Normal soap. And you can wash in it and be daily reborn to a safe world of modest, enduring love or, at least, mild, well-mannered bonding.

And I served as an officer in the army." "Very impressive. I've been told that war is boredom interspersed with violence and terror.

I know what you think of me, Miles. I know what you--have thought of me. But I have a heart. I do have a heart. I just cannot afford to use it. Don't you see? Why can't you see this? Whereas you--may play at all of this as much as you like. There will always be someone for you. And that is the difference. I cannot afford to use my heart. And you--you choose not to use yours.' - Cynthia Brightley to Miles Redmond

Before him and since he'd gone away, she'd either contracted or ever-so-subtly contorted her very being to accommodate nearly everybody else. She was only ever wholly herself with him.

No one understood what his legend had cost him.

Rhys told himself that everything came with a price. He'd made a difficult choice years ago to regain all he had, and some days he could convince himself that life was like war: bitter, desperate choices were often made in the name of survival, and some inevitably survived at the expense of others.

She suspected she looked upon greatness for the first time in the form of a dusty, weary, rueful vicar, who did things like hold the hand of an old woman as she breathed her last breath and throw his fist into the jaw of a man who slurred her questionable honor and came in the dead of night to sit by the bed of her maid.

It's no small matter to cross an ocean,Chagall said. More can be lost than canvas and paint. An artist must bear witness, Monsieur Fry. He cannot turn away, even if he wished to. An artist cannot bear witness if he's dead.

God asks the most of those he loves best.

Not once did we ever have the money to buy them a single toy. AND

You keep it," he said.

She had sacrificed her childhood to save her brothers; she loved her family above all else, and her spirits yearned to return home once more, to the wild forest and the land of mystic tales and ancient spirits whence he had taken her. That was the place of her heart, and if he loved her, he must let her go.

Nothing comes without a price.

How can he do this? If you were mine, I would fight to keep you. I would die, before I let you go.

Not all were joyful tales; we needed to acknowledge that love was not just kisses, smiles, and fulfillment, but also sacrifice, compromise, and hard work.