Quotes about Strength

At some point, every relationship brings you to the end of yourself, and with God there is no healthier place to be. When I am willing to confess how weak I am, I am most ready to reach out for the grace that can only be found in Christ. He was willing to follow his Father's plan and become weak so that, in our moments of weakness, we could receive his strength.

For me the goddess is the female of God, She is powerful if different.

The real power behind whatever success I have now was something I found within myself - something that's in all of us, I think, a little piece of God just waiting to be discovered.

Every time we have a woman on-screen, we can empower her in a different way rather than just giving a speech on the importance of equality and empowerment. I think sometimes we have to show her as powerful.

She is very clever, too clever for a woman. She lacks the indefinable charm of weakness. It is the feet of clay that make the gold of the image precious. Her feet are very pretty, but they are not feet of clay. White porcelain feet, if you like. They have been through fire, and what fire does not destroy, it hardens.

I would merely beg you not to be too much bowed down by grief. What seem to us bitter trails are often blessings in disguise.

But the bravest man amongst us is afraid of himself.

But in the case of an artist, weakness is nothing less than a crime, when it is a weakness that paralyses the imagination.

We artists are indestructible, even in a prison cell or a concentration camp I would be all right in my own world of art. Even if I had to paint my pictures with my tongue on the dusty floor of my cell.

Five rather small dogs can be very powerful. If you can get a team pulling together in one direction, you can get enormous power out of them.1 What a great illustration about cooperation in the face of contrast and difference.

A mere man alone can easily be defeated, but a man alive with the power of God within him is invincible.

Aren't we all like that battling giant of the forest? Don't we manage somehow to survive the rare storms and avalanches and lightning blasts of life, only to let our hearts be eaten out by little beetles of worry—little beetles that could be crushed between a finger and a thumb?