Quotes About Strength

who had lost her mother

When you will not fly into a passion people know you are stronger than they are, because you are strong enough to hold in your rage, and they are not, and they say stupid things they wish they hadn't said afterward. There's nothing so strong as rage, except what makes you hold it in—that's stronger. It's a good thing not to answer your enemies. I scarcely ever do.

He had known it before in a way, he had hoped it and felt it and thought about it, but just at that minute something had rushed all through him—a sort of rapturous belief and realization, and it had been so strong that he could not help calling out. 'I'm well…

There's nothing so strong as rage, except what makes you hold it in- that's stronger.

Frances Hodgson Burnett

Whats'ever 'appens to you -- whats'ever -- you'd be a princess all the same -- an' nothin' couldn't make you nothin' different.

But then I dare say soldiers—even brave ones—don't really LIKE going into battle.

Qualunque cosa accada' disse lei, ' non potrà cambiare un fatto. Se sono una principessa così vestita di stracci, posso essere una principessa dentro. Sarebbe fin troppo facile essere una principessa vestita d'oro, ma che trionfo esserlo quando nessuno lo sa.

It was a worse thing, answered the Ancient One. It was anger. When a man is overcome by anger he has a poisoned fever. He loses his strength, he loses his power over himself and over others, he throws away time in which he might have gained the end he most desires. THERE IS NO TIME FOR ANGER IN THE WORLD.

Although he's slight, he has that wiry strength that seems to come more from will than muscle.

If I cannot move heaven, I will raise hell (Virgil, Aeneid).

My dad, who my mom always refers to as DH for Darling Husband, was protrayed as a 'let's look on the bright side of things' kind of guy, the pillar my everbumbling mother leans on in times of distress.

Nonviolence is a weapon of the strong -Emma

Every girl is a goddess.

Sometimes a wild horse needs to feel that his rider is just a little bit wilder.

Think of your pain like a bunch of red roses, a beautiful thorn necklace. Everyone has one.

Pianos, unlike people, sing when you give them your every growl. They know how to dive into the pit of your stomach and harmonize with your roars when you've split yourself open. And when they see you, guts shining, brain pulsing, heart right there exposed in a rhythm that beats need need, need need, need need, pianos do not run. And so she plays.

No matter how bad things get, you can always see the beauty in them. The worse things get, the more you have to make yourself see the magic in order to survive.

The true warrior isn't immune to fear. She fights in spite of it.

She was no longer a slow dreamer watching the flowers grow. She was a warrior now. Warriors need something to fight for though, beside their lives, because otherwise their lives will not be worth it.

You are so intense. Like a storm. It's shocking how intense you are.

Maybe her own tears were the poison that made her grow.

Relieved because what I dreaded most in the whole world was going to happen and I wouldn't have to live with it anymore—the fear. There is the relief of finally not being alone and the relief of being alone when no one can take anything away from you. Here she was, my beautiful fear. Shiny as crystal lace frost.

for frail but surprisingly strong fairies who had lost their way above ground for burned mermaids and sick vampire girls for wild wolfish women with sharp teeth and leaves in their hair