Best 2961 quotes in «pride quotes» category

There is a kind of excellence in me and you—born in us—and it cannot live in shame.

There is, however, a far more common ailment among us—and that is pride from the bottom looking up. It is manifest in so many ways, such as faultfinding, gossiping, backbiting, and murmuring, living beyond our means, envying, coveting, withholding gratitude and praise that might lift another, and being unforgiving and jealous.

There is no greater enemy than pride.

There is no greater evil than men's failure to consult and to consider.

There is no greater service than that rendered to one’s nation, no greater glory one can seek than that in the name of one’s people.

There is no need to impress people; for they don't care about your pride, they are busy in their business. But when you'll fall down, they'll talk about you! Better to live as you are and to enjoy what you have without lust .

There is no pride in true love.

There is no more prideful creature than a man born poor.

There is no problem to relish pride when people praises you but at the same time, one must also be of the opinion that ‘this should not be so’.

There is no shame in love, no matter what others may tell you - and no matter what you may tell yourself.

There is no samkit (vision with right belief that I am Pure Soul) where there are kashays [anger, pride, deceit and greed], and where there are no kashays, there is samkit (self realization).

There is no such thing as loving a child too much.

There is no such thing as senility when it comes to envy, greed laziness, wrath and pride. It's her destructive character from childhood." ~ Angelica Hopes, If I Could Tell You

There is nothing humble about this woman.

There is nothing so skilful in its own defence as imperious pride. It has an ingenious system of its own, of reprisals, -- a system so ingenious that the defeat must be sore indeed, after which it cannot still find some booty to bring off! And even greater than this ingenuity at reprisals is its capacity for self-deception. In this regard, it outdoes vanity a thousandfold. Wounded vanity knows when it is mortally hurt; and limps off the field, piteous, all disguises thrown away...Such pride as this has led many a forlorn hope, on the earth, when all other motives have died out of men's breasts; has won many a crown, which has not been called by its true name.

There is nothing new under the sun but that of the Son. Man's rebellion against God has always been because he would rather fall in pride than rise in humility.

There is one thing you must always remember about yourself; always be yourself, with courage and humility, no matter what!

There is something about yourself that you don't know. Something that you will deny even exists until it's too late to do anything about it. It's the only reason you get up in the morning, the only reason you suffer the shitty boss, the blood, the sweat and the tears. This is because you want people to know how good, attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. "Fear or revere me, but please think I'm special." We share an addiction. We're approval junkies. We're all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. The "hip, hip, hoo-fucking-rah." Look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. Shine on, you crazy diamond. Cos we're just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the approval of others.

There may have been a time when pride was the very center of your life. You had ambitious thoughts of yourself, your powers, desires, and aims; but now that will begin to change . . . you have been born again.

There remains yet something of honor and pride, of life.

There's blood pounding through the Duke's head. Knighthood is glory, he's thinking, not just grace in the saddle and at swordplay, but courage enough to give your life to defend what you hold dear. A noble reward, for noble men. A badge of honour. He'd never ennoble a merchant. Even Chaucer, whom he admires, but knows to be a fool on a battlefield. Not Chaucer's fault, that; just his merchant blood. Knighthood's not for the likes of these people; for Madame Perrers' brood. He thought she knew her place. But she's overreached herself; she's as grasping as the rest of them, after all. Do these people think they can buy or steal everything?

There's more to a person than flesh. Judge others by the sum of their soul and you'll see that beauty is a force of light that radiates from the inside out.

There's pride and then there's stupidity.

There were dozens of theories about what it was, that dome. Every scientist in the world, it seemed, had made a pilgrimage to the site. Tests had been conducted, measurements taken. They had tried drilling through it. Under it. Had flown over it. Had dug beneath it. Had approached it by submarine. Nothing worked. Every species of doomsayer from Luddite to End Times nut had had his say. It was a judgment. On America’s technological obsession, on America’s moral failure. This. That. Something else. Then the twins had popped out. Just like that. First Emma. Then, a few minutes later, Anna. Alive and well at the exact moment of their fifteenth birthday. They told tales of life inside the bowl. What they called the FAYZ. Connie Temple’s heart had swelled with pride for what she had learned of her son, Sam. And crashed into despair with tales of her other son, her unacknowledged child, Caine. Then, nothing. No other kids arrived for a while. Black despair settled over the families as they realized that it would be only these two. Months passed. Many lost faith. How could kids survive alone? But then, the Prophetess had reached into their dreams. One night Connie Temple had a lurid, incredible dream. She’d never had such a detailed dream. It was terrifying. The power of it took her breath away. There was a girl in that dream. This girl spoke to her in the dream. It’s a dream, the girl said. Yes, just a dream, Connie had answered. Not just a dream. Never say “just” a dream, the girl had corrected. A dream is a window to another reality. Who are you? Connie had asked. My name is Orsay. I know your son. Connie had been about to say, Which one? But some instinct stopped her. The girl did not look dangerous. She looked hungry. Do you have a message for Sam? the girl asked. Yes, Connie said. Tell him to let them go. Let them go. Let them go off into the red sunset.

There were long stretches of DNA in between genes that didn't seem to be doing very much; some even referred to these as "junk DNA," though a certain amount of hubris was required for anyone to call any part of the genome "junk," given our level of ignorance.

The seeking face that will not alter when presented with reason, must delight in its wearer's prideful ignorance.

The temptations that use the raw material of good for evil can continue unrecognized for a long time without awareness.

The self-centered man will always expect nothing but praise. He will hope and expect all incoming criticism to be mere self-projection from the critic because when you're self-centered, self-projection is all you can imagine one can do.

The taller you stand, the more possibilities you see.

The things at the Village, they will be resolved or they won't. I know you want to hep Amber, and that's gut. But it's not your responsibility how things turn out." The tense bundle of nerves in Hannah's stomach relaxed. Was that what she'd been doing? Claiming responsibility for something she couldn't control? "Gotte will watch out for your freind." "Danke, Jesse. I suppose I was making myself too important, as if Gotte couldn't work things out without my help." "He did all right before we were born. He'll do fine long after we're gone.

The thing we are most proud of and the thing we are most ashamed of are but the front and back of the same coin. They torture and thrill all at once.

The seeking face that does not alter when presented with peace and reason, must bask in its wearer's prideful ignorance.

The test we must set for ourselves is not to march alone but to march in such a way that others will wish to join us.

The thing is… I was a very proud girl. I never wanted to take the chance I might get hurt. Isn’t that funny? I was game for any exciting adventure that came my way, but when it came to risking my heart, I was a coward.

The Three Kinds of Pride are: (1) thinking I am better than the other(s); (2) thinking I am worse than the other(s); and (3) thinking I am just as good as the other(s).

The toughest thing worth losing is Pride.

The truly terrible thing about the war spirit, about the fear and hate hysteria it generates, is that it forces us to think and talk and feel in terms of abstractions—those "communists" this time, those "fascists" last time. But those we are fighting and killing are people—men, women and children—not political, geographic or economic abstractions. They are, in the main, as decent and fearful and confused as we are. And they regard us as abstractions as much as we do them.

The vanity of intelligence is that the intelligent man is often more committed to 'one-upping' his opponent than being truthful. When the idea of intelligence, rather than intelligence itself, becomes a staple, there is no wisdom in it.

The war was between the Danes and Wessex. My war was with Odda the Younger, and I knew I was driven by pride. The preachers tell us that pride is a great sin, but the preachers are wrong. Pride makes a man, it drives him. It’s the shield wall around his reputation and the Danes understood that. Men die they said, but reputation does not die. What do we look for in a lord? Strength, generosity, hardness, and success. And why should a man not be proud of those things? Show me a humble warrior and I’ll see a corpse. Alfred preached humility, he even pretended to it, loving to appear in church with bare feet and prostrating himself in-front the alter, but he never possessed true humility. He was proud, and men feared him because of it, and men should fear a lord. They should fear his displeasure and fear his generosity will cease. Reputation makes fear, and pride protects reputation, and I marched North because my pride was endangered.

The walls of hell are coated with arrogance, and the floor is covered with pride.

The warrior who goes off to battle should not boast as the one who returns from it.

The virtues are economists, but some of the vices are also...Pride is handsome, economical; pride eradicates so many vices, letting none subsist but itself, that it seems as if it were a great gain to exchange vanity for pride. Pride can go without domestics, without fine clothes, can live in a house with two rooms, can eat potato, purslain, beans, lyed corn, can work on the soil, can travel afoot, can talk with poor men, or sit silent well contented in fine saloons. But vanity costs money, labor, horses, men, women, health and peace, and is still nothing at last; a long way leading nowhere. Only one drawback; proud people are intolerably selfish, and the vain are gentle and giving.

The ways of the world exalt themselves against God. They sometimes look rational and appealing to the most ernest disciple but Christ says to us then what He said to His disciples long ago, when many of them had given u pin disgust, "Do you also want to leave me?" If we answer as PEter did, "Lord to whom else shall we go? Your words are words of eternal life," our rebel thoughts are captured once more. The way of holiness is again visible.

The well-meaning woman was in fact possessed by two devils--the one the stiff-necked devil of pride, the other the condescending devil of benevolence. She was kind, but she must have credit for it

The whole bloated sensation of success is wiped clean when among family. There is no pressure of being looked upon as 'the brilliant one' but rather the comforts of always being the pupil.

The word I use is hubris. Our word for arrogance that scrapes the stars, for violence and towering rage as ugly as the gods.

They'd smother what was left of her pride in well-meaning sympathy.

The words hurt my throat a little – probably because I was swallowing my pride, and it didn’t taste so great.

They can talk shit about each other behind the others' backs, but when it comes down to it, money is the one true race and everyone down here is the color of greenbacks and as tall as mountains.

They have no achievements of their own. They've made nothing, created nothing, worked at nothing. They will leave no trace that they ever existed. They have no legacy except for their names, which they did nothing to earn.