Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by C. JoyBell C.

Quote by C. JoyBell C.

“The strength of a woman is not measured by the impact that all her hardships in life have had on her; but the strength of a woman is measured by the extent of her refusal to allow those hardships to dictate her and who she becomes.”

Quote by C. JoyBell C.

Create image

Author

C. JoyBell C.

Browse famous quotes and profile details for C. JoyBell C.. more

You May Also Like

“Power is the result of rigorous self-observation. Self-observation causes a higher degree of self-consciousness, especially of the things we do not like about ourselves, which causes us to change or inadequacies into strengths, and so we achieve power. Power comes from identifying your weaknesses rapidly and eradicating them for good. Assuming that you're correct is the fastest way to remain incorrect. You're probably doing something wrong somewhere, which is why you are in the position where you are instead of where you want to be. The more you ignore it, the worse it gets. You need to stop avoiding it and face the facts. Study yourself to study your weaknesses. And when you do, they will disappear. If I avoid the mirror I will eventually be unable to face it. If I avoid my balance sheet, it won't get any bigger. So I watch myself. I observe and I criticize. I exercise self-discipline and judgement, reward and punishment, a focused routine of self-evaluation.”

MotivationPowerImpactMindsetProductivityThought ProvokingPerformanceIcon
Author:Anje Kruger
Create image

“Finally, Grom shakes his head. "She's a Half-Breed, Galen." Mom's head snaps toward him. "She's my daughter," she says slowly. She pulls herself from his lap and stands over him, hands on hips. Oh, he's in serious shiznit now. And I can't help but feel elated about it."Are you saying my daughter's not good enough for your brother?" Yeah, Grom, are you? Huh, huh are you? Grom sighs, the triviality in his expression softening into something else. "Nalia, love-" "Don't you 'Nalia, love' me." Mom crosses her arms”

EmmaNaliaGrom
Book:Of Triton
Create image

“Encounter w/ strange man June 3, approx. 2 a.m. White, 5'9", slightly scruffy, shaggy brown hair. Ripped T-shirt, jeans, no shoes. Origin and destination unknown, believed to be night wanderer. I chewed on the end of the pen, wondering if I should include any other details. It had been too dark to tell what color his eyes were. His voice had been deep, with a rasp, almost... but I couldn't write that. If my body was found in the woods behind the house, and investigators were competent enough to do a forensic analysis of this notebook, I didn't want editorializing words complicating the narrative. Words like compelling, or god forbid, sexy.”

Physical AttractionDissertationFirst Met
Book:Love in the Time of Serial Killers
Create image

“It started when I met you in the rain forest. When I almost stepped on the cycad and the gloxinia, but you stopped me just in time." "That's when I made you go back and get the moonflower." "The umbilical cord, you called it." "We walked to Casablanca through the jungle." "And then alongside the ocean." "I liked you already." "I liked you, too. You introduced me to Tamatz Kauyumari. The oldest and biggest deer." "I sang you his spirit song." "And then he led us to Theobroma cacao." "I saw Panthera onca following you through the jungle, twice." "I never should have gone to the market without you, but you were sleeping." "That's where you met the Cashier." "And found the mandrake. And cichorium intybus. The plant of invisibility.”

SpiritualAdventureStoryPlantsFirst Met
Book:Hothouse Flower and the Nine Plants of Desire
Create image

“When she reached him, she put her hands on the bars and looked at him through them, her dark eyes wide. "It is you! Frasier said you were coming back, but he didn't know exactly when. It's been forever since you've answered a text. I was getting worried." Her presence blew over him like a fresh breeze. He found himself smiling at her, a little goofily. He must still be travel-drunk. "It was an intense road trip.”

Young LoveFirst MetGreeting
Book:Other Birds
Create image

“The onlookers' rudeness irked Lavender. How quickly their veneer of courtesy fell away. Beholding the man, they acted as if they viewed an exhibit in some monstrous hall of wonders. Terrible as the ruined side of his face was to look upon, balancing it, the good half was nothing short of godlike. He stopped in front of her floral cart. As if swished away by some invisible magician's wand, the gawking masses faded, leaving only quietude---a radical privacy---as though a glass dome ventilated with fresh oxygen closed over the two of them, and they alone existed in the world. "Your flowers steal my breath away," he said. He wished to make a purchase. "How many bouquets or tussie-mussies, Sir?" "All of them," the man said, then pointed to the sachet that had, earlier, toppled into the dirt. "What is this?" "A scent-filled sachet." "Sewn with your own hands, I presume?" the man asked. She nodded. "What fills it?" "Achillea millefolium. Yarrow. It heals. Protects. It's also known as a love charm." "Heals, you say?" The man sighed. "If only it could." Then he inquired the cost---of everything. Normally, Lavender ciphered like the wind, but a tallying void struck. She told him... a number... some totted up, air-castle sum bolted from her mouth. He paid her. The sum almost overflowed her hands. She transferred the bounty into her coin purse. "I worship at your cart," the man declared. "And tomorrow, with even the slightest sliver of serendipity, you shall hear Mr. Whitman's divine words.”

FaceFirst MetScarredSellout
Book:The Apothecary's Garden
Create image