Quotes about Resilience

One writes of scars healed, a loose parallel to the pathology of the skin, but there is no such thing in the life of an individual. There are open wounds, shrunk sometimes to the size of a pin-prick but wounds still. The marks of suffering are more comparable to the loss of a finger, or of the sight of an eye. We may not miss them, either, for one minute in a year, but if we should there is nothing to be done about it.

In any case you mustn't confuse a single failure with a final defeat.

It eluded us then, but that's no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And then one fine morning— So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

He loved her, and he would love her until the day he was too old for loving--but he could not have her. So he tasted the deep pain that is reserved only for the strong, just as he had tasted for a little while the deep happiness.

Long ago, there was something in me, but now that thing is gone. Now that thing is gone, that thing is gone. I cannot cry. I cannot care. That thing will come back no more.

And so we beat on, books against the critics, borne back ceaslessly into rewrites.

A man does not recover from such jolts-- he becomes a different person and, eventually, the new person finds new things to care about.

Work like hell! I had 122 rejection slips before I sold a story.

And courage to me meant ploughing through that dull gray mist that comes down on life--not only overriding people and circumstances but overriding the bleakness of living.

no girl can permanently bolster up a lame-duck visitor, because these day it's every girl for herself.

Receding from a grief, it seems necessary to retrace the same steps that brought us there.

What was the promise with the head sick?