Quotes About Defeat

shot at. All I did at Wotje was lose control

Here, therefore, huge and mighty warrior though you be, here shall you die.

Whene'er, by Jove's decree, our conquering powers Shall humble to the dust her lofty towers.

As the youth came on in front of the others, he got the bronze in his chest beside the right nipple. On through his shoulder it went and he fell to earth in the dust like a sooth black poplar whose branchy top falls in the low grassland of a mighty marsh to the gleaming ax of some chariot-maker, who leaves t to dry by the banks of a river that he may bend him a rim for a beautiful chariot. Even such was the fall of Anthemion's son Simoeisius

Of men who have a sense of honor, more come through alive than are slain, but from those who flee comes neither glory nor any help.

From 1964 to 1972, the wealthiest and most powerful nation in the history of the world made a maximum military effort, with everything short of atomic bombs, to defeat a nationalist revolutionary movement in a tiny, peasant country-and failed. When the United States fought in Vietnam, it was organized modern technology versus organized human beings, and the human beings won.

Just as African Americans had learned that they did not have enough strength to make good the promises of emancipation, working people learned that they were not united or strong enough to defeat the combination of private wealth and government power. But their fight would continue.

The Angels don't like to be called losers, but they have learned to live with it. "Yeah, I guess I am," said one. "But you're looking at one loser who's going to make a hell of a scene on the way out.

Kill the body and the head will die.

Yeah, I guess I am," said one. "But you're looking at one loser who's going to make a hell of a scene on the way out.

In a world increasingly geared to specialists, technicians and fantastically complicated machinery, the Hell's Angels are obvious losers and it bugs them. But instead of submitting quietly to their collective fate, they have made it the basis of a full-time social vendetta. They don't expect to win anything, but on the other hand, they have nothing to lose.

My enemy is twice dead, and I still have him.

The gain to the winner is always less than the loss to the loser.

He shrugged his shoulders to shift the pain of failure---the pain that is so much greater than the pleasure of success.

He shrugged his shoulders to shift the pain of failure Ã¢â'¬â€œ the pain of failure that is so much greater than the pleasure of success.

Bond's mind was clear again. By a miracle he had survived a devastating wound. He could feel his armpits still wet with the fear of it. But the success of his gambit with the chair had wiped out all memories of the dreadful valley of defeat through which he had just passed.

Los comentaristas que sugerían que la victoria del ordenador acabaría con el go se equivocaban. Tras su quinta derrota, el viejo maestro de go, auxiliado por un asistente, se puso de pie despacio, hizo una reverencia de cabeza hacia el ordenador portátil y lo felicitó con voz temblorosa. Dijo: El jinete en su montura no acabó con el atletismo. Corremos por placer.

The stricken vessel started getting deeper in the water, slowly going down, as if she too were reluctant to give up the battle. With her colors proudly flying and the last signal flags, reading 'I am abandoning ship,' still waving at the yardarm, she went under on an even keel, like the lady she always was.

others, the story losing

No one has ever defeated him before," she said to herself. This terrified her. He was a monster. And when you manage to wound a monster, one of two things is bound to happen: either he will fly into a rage, destroying and killing as never before, as though he were bidding farewell to murder through a murder infinitely more gruesome, or he will become still, impassively observing his surroundings as he slowly bleeds to death.

And therefore we should acknowledge that the Oslo process was not a fair and equal pursuit of peace, but a compromise agreed to by a defeated, colonized people.

I could have fixed almost everything else, but death defeated me every time.

I almost had her. Curran nodded. I heard. And you could've taken her, too. My voice came out flat. Rub it in, why don't you. He grinned. No time for that now, maybe later. I closed my eyes. There wouldn't be any later. Are you imagining me rubbing it in? he asked.

The creative act, the defeat of habit by originality, overcomes everything. And I really believe that. And what I try to teach young people, or anybody in any creative field, is that every idea should seemingly be outrageous.