Quotes About Overcoming

Many men owe the grandeur of their lives to their tremendous difficulties.

Estas cosas les he hablado para que en Mí tengan paz. En el mundo tienen tribulación; pero confíen, Yo he vencido al mundo». JUAN 16.33, NBLH

Helen Keller was blind and deaf when she graduated from college with honors. So what's your problem?

Out of 10,000 feet of fall, always remember that the last half inch hurts the most.

How many times have I failed before? How many times have I stood here like this, in front of my own image, in front of my own person, trying to convince him not to be scared, to go on, to get out of this rut? How many times before I finally convince myself, how many private, erasable deaths will I need to die, how may self-murders is it going to take, how many times will I have to destroy myself before I learn, before I understand?

You think you have mastered it, but just as you get well underway in following, it turns a back-somersault and there you are. It slaps you in the face, knocks you down, and tramples upon you. It is like a bad dream.

It's how you deal with failure that determines how you achieve success.

Chas Newkey-Burden

Pee in a cup, Bobbi. Give us your blood, Bobbi. Whoops, we reanimated the dead, Bobbi. Find the antiviral, Bobbi. Clean up our mess, Bobbi. Blah blah blah. Blah. Blah.

I've had a really bad day," she said to Jack. "Your party sucked. I think my boyfriend and I are breaking up. I got taken hostage by a serial killer. I have spiders in my hair. And you're being a pig-headed asshole. I'm telling you," she added, with a glance over her shoulder at Razor Burn, "if someone points a gun at me again, or threatens me in any way, I'm going to lose it.

If grass can grow through cement, love can find you at every time in your life.

But tonight she inhaled, pushing the air past the tightness, feeling around for the lump in her throat. It was there. The odds were fair that it always would be. But tonight it was smaller, and she did not sob, but smile.

As an old acquaintance of mine used to say, "If you can't duck it, fuck it." I'm pretty sure he knew it was duct and not duck, but I'll forgive him for the sake of the rhyme.

I knew that if I allowed fear to overtake me, my journey was doomed. Fear, to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves, and so I chose to tell myself a different story from the one women are told. I decided I was safe. I was strong. I was brave. Nothing could vanquish me.

Nobody's going to do your life for you. You have to do it yourself, whether you're rich or poor, out of money or raking it in, the beneficiary of ridiculous fortune or terrible injustice. And you have to do it no matter what is true. No matter what is hard. No matter what unjust, sad, sucky things befall you. Self-pity is a dead-end road. You make the choice to drive down it. It's up to you to decide to stay parked there or to turn around and drive out.

I walked and I walked, my mind shifting into a primal gear that was void of anything but forward motion, and I walked until walking became unbearable, until I believed I couldn't walk even one more step. And then I ran.

A terrible thing happened to you, but you mustn't let it define your life.

but thinking about it didn't do a thing. Thinking about it was a long dive into a bucket of shit that didn't have a bottom.

nothing bad could happen to me, I thought. The worst thing already had.

the other half of rising—the very half that makes rising necessary—is having been nailed to the cross.

It's just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.

Within forty minutes, the voice inside my head was screaming, WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO? I tried to ignore it, to hum as I hiked, though humming proved too difficult to do while also panting and moaning in agony and trying to remain hunched in that remotely upright position while also propelling myself forward when I felt like a building with legs.

But I wasn't out here to keep myself from having to say I am not afraid. I'd come, I realized, to stare that fear down, to stare everything down, really—all that I'd done to myself and all that had been done to me.

My grief is tremendous but my love is bigger.