Best 1297 quotes in «brave quotes» category

Isn't bravery always sort of beautiful?

It can’t be done,” they told the caterpillar. “It can,” replied the butterfly.

It doesn't count if it's from friends, right?

I tell myself I am brave and yet, I still fear change. I guess it’s time to face that fear.

It has taken my whole life thus far to see how being brave enough to hold on to a question, brave enough to never stop looking for answers, and brave enough to take action even when I didn’t know the right answer, was as brave as I needed to be to succeed and to succeed with love.

{The resolution of the surviving members of the Eleventh Illinois Cavalry, whom Robert Ingersoll was the commander of, at his funeral quoted here} Robert G. Ingersoll is dead. The brave soldier, the unswerving patriot, the true friend, and the distinguished colonel of the old regiment of which we have the honor to be a remanent, sleeps his last sleep. No word of ours, though written in flame, no chaplet that our hands can weave, no testimony that our personal knowledge can bring, will add anything to his fame. The world honors him as the prince of orators in his generation, as its emancipator from manacles and dogmas; philosophy, for his aid in beating back the ghosts of superstition; and we, in addition to these, for our personal knowledge of him, as a man, a soldier, and a friend. We know him as the general public did not. We knew him in the military camp, where he reigned an uncrowned king, ruling with that bright scepter of human benevolence which death alone could wrest from his hand. We had the honor to obey, as we could, his calm but resolute commands at Shiloh, at Corinth, and at Lexington, knowing as we did, that he would never command a man to go where he would not dare to lead the way. We recognize only a small circle who could know more of his manliness and worth than we do. And to such we say: Look up, if you can, through natural tears; try to be as brave as he was, and try to remember -- in the midst of grief which his greatest wish for life would have been to help you to bear -- that he had no fear of death nor of anything beyond.

I think having the knowledge, plus the experiences you've lived through, make you definitely not fragile. They make you brave.

I think I’m learning that sometimes the bravest thing is not to face the world, but to turn away from it.

I think I'm more curious than I used to be - curious about why people live like they do and how they make sense of their time... Do they see how the sun has made it like a champion around the world overnight, and that all day today we get another chance to be brave, to exercise our humanity with boldness and deft precision?

I think that is not true," Uncle Henrik said. "I think you are like your mama,and like your papa, and like me. Frightened, but determined, and if the time came to be brave, I quite sure you would be very, very brave." "But," he added, "it is much easier to be brave if you do not know everything. And so your mama does not know everything.Neither do I. We only know what we need to know." "Do you understand what I am saying?" he asked, looking into her eyes. Annemarie frowned. She wasn't sure.What did bravery mean? She had been very frightened the day--not long ago though now it seemed far in the past-- when the soldier had stopped her on the street and asked questions in his rough voice. And she had not known that the German were going to take away the Jews. And so, when the soldiers asked, looking at Ellen that day, "What is the name of your friend?"she had been able to handle him, even though she was frightened. If she had known everything, it would have not been so easy to be brave.

I think you're talking shit. You think we don't all feel like that? Like we're crazy, like we're not a real person, like we don't exist? Everyone feels that way sometimes. I can remember talking to you when you lost your bag. So what? You can't remember and that's not a bad thing. It doesn't make me better than you. I'm a stranger to you, but here's what I see: I see a girl who has suffered a terrible damage to her brain. Someone who, it seems, is shut away by her parents to keep her safe. But inside there is a vibrant person, a traveler, and her memory of this boy Drake has propelled her into action. I think, Flora, that you came here not to find Drake but to find yourself. It wasn't Drake--he's an unlikely romantic hero, really--it was you. Didn't you come here, perhaps, because you heard him talking about the place he was going to, and it called to you?" I don't know what to say. I don't say anything. " Our come from Oslo, and Svalbard called me, even though I'm not really the rugged adventurous type. Like you, I had to come. Some of us are meant to be here. We need this place...We need to be small specks in wild nature, by the pole. The midnight sun. The midday darkness. The northern lights. It called to you, Flora, and you answered. You overcame everything, and you came here, alone. You are the bravest person I've ever met.

It is a responsibility for those that see and have understanding, and choose to not be bridled by fear, to step forward and lead the way.

It is better to die with your boots on than to live as a bootlicker.

It is brave to be ruthless towards the mother.

It is fair to assume that the world is afraid of you

It is in vain to threaten one who is not afraid to die, and pointless to menace one who is not afraid to live.

It’s not the circumstances that we should feel threatened by, it’s the fear of the circumstances that poses the real threat.

It is one thing to be brave in front of others, perhaps for fear of being branded a coward and becoming diminished in their eyes, but another entirely to be brave when there is nobody to witness your courage. The latter is an elemental bravery, a strength of spirit and character.

It is the bravery of the lion that enables you the lion’s share of the power. More important than all, know this: bravery begets victory.

It is worth living long enough to outlast whatever sense of grievance you may acquire.

It makes me wonder just how many supposedly brave people in the world are just men and women trying to imitate someone more courageous than themselves.

It's amazing how brave you can be when you feel safe.

It’s just you, Little Monster. Own it or it will own you.

It’s okay to feel whatever you need to feel. Just promise me that you will never, ever feel guilty. Promise me that you will never blame yourself. It’s not your fault. You’re just a little girl and it’s not your fault that your life is so much harder than it should be. And as much as you’ll want to forget these things ever happened to you and as much as you’ll want to forget this part of your life existed, I need for you to remember.

It’s the only way to know you’re really in love, when you ask the question would it be harder to watch him die, or to know he’ll watch me die? Is there more mercy in being the one who does the watching or in being the one who does the dying? It’s when you realize what mercy-killing actually means, it’s when you actually care to the point of tormenting worry. It’s not roses and white horses, it’s fucking brutal and it can send a person running for the hills. To love is brave.

It takes brave thinking to sail to your own periphery, to see your boundaries, and break them through.

It takes a heck of a lot of courage to stay true to yourself when the world has forgotten it's way.

It was a brave old world.

It’s funny how we say a person ‘made’ us when they actually broke us. Sort of like how I say ‘funny’... but I actually mean sad.

It's our willingness to be vulnerable that will heal us in the end.

It's when you're acting selflessly that you are at you bravest

- 'I've never had a thing for homicidal charmers before.' - 'But now you do?' - 'Apparently.' -I muttered, knowing he could feel my raicing heartbeat under his chest. - 'Well, if it helps, I've never had a thing for beautiful, deceptively brave, innocent charmers before.' - 'And now you do?' His grin widened, taking on a wolfish look. - 'Definitely

I used to think a drug addict was someone who lived on the far edges of society. Wild-eyed, shaven-headed and living in a filthy squat. That was until I became one...

Joy gives you strength. Hope gives you fortitude. Faith gives you courage. Love gives you power.

I want to love like my grandmother, who loved a woman like Joseph loved Mary. Someone so imperfect, so human, brave enough to love someone who already knows God.

I want you to want something for once. Something that nobody told you to want. I want. I do. Want things. Like what princess? I want something that will make this all worth it; I want the good stuff. I’m ready for the goddamn silver lining. I want to have sisters who live down the street, I want a family; I want a mother to call when I need to know the right temperature to cook a goddamn chicken. I want Sunday suppers and summer barbecues at lake houses. I want to stop second-guessing every tiny detail of every single day, every word that comes out of my mouth. I want to be brave. I want to jump without looking down all the time. I want to be able to watch a TV show without seeing things that remind me about my sisters, about the could-have-been family. I want us to push tables together in restaurants so we all fit, I want to fill benches and rows of bleachers with us, I want the world to make room. I want to laugh too loud and make people wish they were us. I want them to feel it. Those perfect families, those perfect packages, those smug titles for everyone- mother father sister brother, step-this and half-that. They all have words for what they are. And we don’t. I want that.

I was just a flat line until he came along. And maybe now I'm hurting. But isn't that what love is supposed to do? Make you feel, make you brave, make you look at yourself more carefully?

Was one of those college boys with you your boyfriend?” A slight bit of heat creeps onto my cheeks. Not from panic this time, but from...from... “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” And the answer makes me shy, and the shyness gives me the power to look away. To think he called me brave. I wish I was brave. I wish that every person I’d meet would think of me that way. Not as the coward I really am. “Good. Those guys were losers. Stay clear of them.” “You’re sort of bossy.” I’m teasing. Isaiah’s way too serious to find time to be bossy. But the main point is that he’s totally unlike my brothers, who demand everything from me by plain bullying. “I’m not bossy,” he says and I get a little thrill that he’s playing along. This isn’t me. In my day-to-day life, I could never find the courage to talk to guys, much less tease them, yet here I am. “No, I have four older brothers. Technically three older brothers and a twin, but Ethan claims he’s older by a minute. The point is I know what bossy is—and you’re it.” “Think of it as strongly encouraged tips for survival.

I want to be someone strong and brave enough to make hard choices. But I want to be fair and loving enough to make the right ones.

I was not weak; I did not cry. But it hurt me, more in a kind of refreshing, thrilling way, than a kind of pain that would cripple me and send me away crying. My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands, and my teeth bit into my lips, my knees were locked, but I could not faint.

Lightning does not flinch at thunder's threats.

Loud courage silences loud fear.

Luckily, common sense had never been a strong suit of mine and my feet moved faster than my brain.

Love makes you strong when others are weak, brave when others are scared, hopeful when others are despairing and cheerful when others are sad.

Lust makes you weak, passion makes you strong, love makes you brave, and heartache makes you wise.

Luthicer hummed. "You're either brave or very foolish." "What's the difference?" (Eric)

Man will tell woman he will die for her, but I say, tell woman that you will die for her both physically and interior

Man up. Never quit

Mary Queen of Scots had a little dog, a Skye terrier, that was devoted to her. Moments after Mary was beheaded, the people who were watching saw her skirts moving about and they thought her headless body was trying to get itself to its feet. But the movement turned out to be her dog, which she had carried to the block with her, hidden in her skirts. Mary Stuart is supposed to have faced her execution with grace and courage (she wore a scarlet chemise to suggest she was being martyred), but I don’t think she could have been so brave if she had not secretly been holding tight to her Skye terrier, feeling his warm, silky fur against her trembling skin.

Maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live Maybe one these days you can let the light in Show me...how BIG your BRAVE is!