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Resilience Quotes

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Resilience Quotes

“Exercising will builds esteem from within through action on one's own behalf; it disproves the premise that only another person can provide it. The result, long in coming and always worth the effort, is the experience of authentic agency in your own life, a sense of self that cannot be destroyed because it is not dependent on anyone else.”

“We need to talk about the hierarchy of grief. You hear it all the time—no grief is worse than any other. I don’t think that’s one bit true. There is a hierarchy of grief. Divorce is not the same as the death of a partner. Death of a grandparent is not the same as the death of a child. Losing your job is not the same as losing a limb. Here’s the thing: every loss is valid. And every loss is not the same. You can’t flatten the landscape of grief and say that everything is equal. It isn’t. It’s easier to see when we take it out of the intensely personal: stubbing your toe hurts. It totally hurts. For a moment, the pain can be all-consuming. You might even hobble for a while. Having your foot ripped off by a passing freight train hurts, too. Differently. The pain lasts longer. The injury needs recovery time, which may be uncertain or complicated. It affects and impacts your life moving forward. You can’t go back to the life you had before you became a one-footed person. No one would say these two injuries are exactly the same.”

“You are not the product of where you came from. You are not what happened to you. Regardless of the taint of how you were treated, there's beauty in you. When we rewrite, we heal. When we rewrite, we get stronger. When we rewrite, we're unstoppable. There is never an end point, or a cap. Because we are only and always moving forward.”

“Grief needs an outlet. Creativity offers one. Some psychiatrists see mourning and creativity as the perfect marriage, the thought processes of one neatly complementing the other. A child’s contradictory impulses to both acknowledge and deny a parent’s death represents precisely the type of rich ambiguity that inspires artistic expression.”

“She had responded to the loss of her husband, to poverty, to disease, and to family cruelty with boldness and ingenuity, by opening herself to others, especially to her children and her Church, pouring into these precious vessels her knowledge, hope, and devotion.”

“Blinking hard, she watched two Toltec nobles disembark from the aircraft and rush up the steps. One of them argued with the priest who had proclaimed her death sentence. The taller of the two, wearing what she dimly registered as the uniform of the Generals Council, demanded the keys to her shackles. Securing them, he walked behind the post. A curious mixture of anticipation and confusion filled Helen. Although she did not know him, a tenuous sense of hope stirred deep within her simply because he was there with her. She turned her head from side to side, trying to watch him as he worked to free her. “Who are you, my lord? Why are you here?” “You sent me a lecture not long ago about your duty as a healer, Lieutenant,” he replied, on one knee behind her to unlock the manacles around her ankles. “I am your father.”

“When everything looks unbearable, And nothing really seems to fit, You've got to work at full stretch, But you should never ever quit!”

“You always hear all these statements like "Freedom isn't free." You hear the President talking about all these people making sacrifices. But you never really know until you carry one of them in a casket. When you feel their bodyweight. When you feel them. That's when you know. That's when you understand.”

“The history of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre and its aftermath tells a story of both tragedy and resilience in the long struggle for racial justice in America. The facts of Tulsa are not unique in America’s past or present on matters of race. The false accusation, the lack of real due process, the racially motivated brutality, the institutional suppression, and the absence of meaningful government acknowledgment and action are tragically all too common. But so too are the resilience and the strength of the people: to struggle, to survive, and to thrive in the face of overwhelming odds.”

“This duet was my soundtrack. What my grandmother would call a ‘poor pearl’ mindset—always careful to overly dramatize the phrase and make ‘poor’ sound more like ‘paw’ before drawing out the ‘purl’ in her trademark Brooklyn/Italian drawl. Somewhere, Sergeant Stunod was rubbing his hands together, maniacally watching me slip into his shadow world. He could taste victory with each ‘poor purl’ I added to the string I was tripping over. — Chapter One: Mosquitos | Miseries | Mindsets, p. 18”