Quotes About Strength

At least my cage is filled with light.

I get strength from my art - all the paintings I own are powerful.

Be strong, believe in freedom and in God, love yourself, understand your sexuality, have a sense of humor, masturbate, don't judge people by their religion, color or sexual habits, love life and your family.

It's not the men in my life that count, it's the life in my men.

It's not the men in my life, it's the life in my men.

A woman is like a teabag, you never know how strong she is until you put her in hot water.

I wrote the story myself. It's about a girl who lost her reputation and never missed it.

Don't cry for a man who's left you--the next one may fall for your smile.

The curve is more powerful than the sword.

I'm a woman of very few words, but lots of action.

Trump seemed to have learned a lesson from his travails: his personal brand mattered more than what was on his balance sheet, the projection of strength and success was more significant than any actual fact set underneath.

Speak your mind even if your voice shakes.

Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind—even if your voice shakes.

There is nothing you can throw at me that I cannot metabolize, no thing impervious to my alchemy.

Sadness keeps attempting to tie weights to her wrists and ankles, therefore she has to keep moving, she has to outpace it.

She is not yet where she needs to be, in the forest, alone, with the trees over her head. She is not alone.

She has always cried such enormous tears, like heavy pearls, quite at odds with the slightness of her frame.

Her feet moved over the earth with confidence and grace.

Did my daughter appear to me a decade and a half before she was born? I like to think so. There she was, looping back through time to brush past a person not yet ready to be her mother--nowhere near ready, if I'm honest--tipping me the wink that she would one day arrive in my life. Readying me, perhaps, for the road ahead, sowing the seeds for all the strength, compassion and resilience required for her existence.

You shall not look at me, she wants to say, you shall not see into me. I will not be yours. How dare you assess me and find me lacking?

She sees the cloud above him grow darker, gather its horrible rank strength. She wants to reach across the table then, to lay her hand on his arm. She wants to say, I am here. But what if her words are not enough? What if she is not enough of a salve for his nameless pain? For the first

There is, she is starting to see, nothing more she can do. She can stay beside him, comfort him as best she can, but this pestilence is too great, too strong, too vicious. It is an enemy too powerful for her. It has wreathed and tightened its tendrils about her son, and is refusing to surrender him.

She gets hold of the wooden gatepost and grips it with both hands. Everything is shattered but holding on to this post feels like the best course of action, the only thing to do. If she can stay here, at the gate, with her daughters on one side of her and her son on the other, she can hold everything together.

Maggie O'Farrell