Best 1668 quotes in «survival quotes» category

Given the choice, a yeast cell's ideal state is to be diploid. But if it's in an environment with a lack of nutrients, you know what happens? The diploids break into haploids again. Solitary little haploids. Because, in a crisis, it's easier to survive as a single cell.

Give more, so that we can build more, put interest in understanding another more in whatever actions one might carry out in life. Because we all are fighting for survival against adversaries and are sometimes falling, but if we stand together and help shield and strengthen one another, imagine the world that we will live in together, having more happiness with one another, at one another’s side.

Getting a job is not the only way to survive

Give Compassion: Every day the average person fights epic battles never told just to survive.

God is my strength and my defense. When I am weak, he makes me strong. When I am broken, he makes me whole.

Gold is a luxury. Trees are necessities. Man can live and thrive without gold, but we cannot survive without trees.

Going against the storm requires strength, energy and a will to succeed.

Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.

Green meant water, green patches meant farmers and farmers meant agriculture. Agriculture meant food to eat and food to sell, which meant towns and transport. They had reached civilization.

Growing up in a cathedral precinct, what did I know of the absurdities of communism, of how brave man and women in bleak and remote penal colonies were reduced to thinking day by day of nothing else beyond their own survival?

Gun or no gun.

He (and anyone else who survived) learned to be as unscrupulous as the heroes in the pulp adventure magazines he'd read as a boy--sometimes, as unscrupulous as the villains.

He considered going for his hammer, which lay just out of reach, or maybe diving for Ganelon instead, since waking the warrior was probably his best hope of survival.

... Have you considered that maybe this is the birth of a new world, that what happens next is a golden opportunity to change the nature of man in a fundamental way?” “Those are brave words, Tiresias.” “New parents can’t afford to be anything but brave, Eddie.

He doesn't trust people because he knows they are all the same. Everyone cares about their own survival and nothing else, just like him. Since he is more than willing to kill for it, so are they. After all, he has endured through all these years, leading him to be alone, it was the only conclusion that made sense.

He didn't mince words. “Anyone that wants to live, get in.” His voice was deep and powerful, matching the promise his body made. He was confident and self-assured, the kind of man you wanted in your corner when the monsters came knocking. With his arrival, our chance of survival had just shot up exponentially.

He had little respect for anyone who was not willing to put in the effort required to survive and thrive. Not everyone needed the same driving ambition that had fueled him. That had led him to being possibly the richest man in London without a title in his lineage -- all earned in under a decade. That had given him the power to change lives. But a person needed to have the drive to change his own life.

He glanced at James before continuing. “If you're going to survive this, the first rule you need to learn is never count on anyone but yourself. Never. People make mistakes, and the zombies are fast. They don't need to sleep or eat anything but us. Don't leave your protection in the hands of someone else.

He fought for his very survival. If he fought dirty sometimes that does not diminish the fact that he refused to give up.

He found, using fifty stones to keep track, that he could easily remember the names of all fifty states, and he knew the capitols of a lot of them. He knew his times tables all the way up to twelves, and he knew when they'd signed the Declaration of Independence and when John Glenn landed on the moon. But he was keenly aware that he didn't know how to tell if nuts were good to eat, or what berries will make you sick, or what mushrooms were poisonous, and he slowly began to wonder why not one person had ever taught him anything useful.

He held his head, and he cried for them, and he did not melt into the sea but sat, aching, in the glowing moonlight-for in the end our bodies know only how to carry on surviving. That is our strength, and our tragedy.

Global climate change, over-consumption of natural resources, terror-fueled wars that led to xenophobia—these were our ancestors’ mistakes. Nations were starving to death, and people were being massacred in the thousands by radicals, and do you know what the other nations did? They did nothing. The second they stopped caring for each other is when they sealed their fate. They closed their borders. Instead of trying to save, they instead sought to preserve what they had left. This forced nations to invade in order to survive, and nuclear weapons no longer became a deterrent but a catalyst, ultimately creating a war that ended their world.

He knelt among the shadows and felt his isolation bitterly. They were savages it was true; but they were human.

Here, just like in my own world, popularity was power; survival required the occasional sacrifice of a damaged limb—or a damaged cousin—and alliances were crucial.

He pulled me back to him, stroking my hair as if to calm me. Tears sprang to my eyes and melted into the water around me. I didn't want to die. But people died every day. What hope I had for heaven's existence faded away, and I realized I would simply disappear.

He reaches over and touches my necklace. "You still have it. That gives me faith." "Faith in what?" "God, I suppose. No, I don't know. Survival.

Here and there awareness is growing that man, far from being the overlord of all creation, is himself part of nature, subject to the same cosmic forces that control all other life. Man's future welfare and probably even his survival depend upon his learning to live in harmony, rather than in combat, with these forces." Essay on the Biological Sciences, in: Good Reading (1958)

Here's the thing about Hazel: Almost everyone is obsessed with leaving a mark upon the world. Bequeathing a legacy. Outlasting death. We all want to be remembered. I do, too. That's what bothers me most, is being another unremembered casualty in the ancient and inglorious war against disease. I want to leave a mark. But Van Houten: The marks humans leave are too often scars. You build a hideous minimall or start a coup or try to become a rock star and you think, "They'll remember me now," but (a) they don't remember you, and (b) all you leave behind are more scars. Your coup becomes a dictatorship. Your minimall becomes a lesion. ... We are like a bunch of dogs squirting on fire hydrants. We poison the groundwater with our toxic piss, marking everything MINE in a ridiculous attempt to survive our deaths. I can't stop pissing on fire hydrants. I know it's silly and useless--epically useless in my current state--but I am an animal like any other. Hazel is different. She walks lightly, old man. She walks lightly upon the earth. Hazel knows the truth: We're as likely to hurt the universe as we are to help it, and we're not likely to do either. People will say it's sad that she leaves a lesser scar, that fewer remember her, that she was loved deeply but not widely. But it's not sad, Van Houten. It's triumphant. It's heroic. Isn't that the real heroism? Like the doctors say: First, do no harm. The real heroes anyway aren't the people doing things; the real heroes are the people NOTICING things, paying attention. The guy who invented the smallpox vaccine didn't actually invent anything. He just noticed that people with cowpox didn't get smallpox. ... But then I wanted more time so we could fall in love. I got my wish, I suppose. I left my scar. ... What else? She is so beautiful. You don't get tired of looking at her. You never worry if she is smarter than you: You know she is. She is funny without ever being mean. I love her. I am so lucky to love her, Van Houten. You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes hers.

He sent up another silent prayer to wherever desperate prayers go and took the first step toward what he hoped would be salvation.

He’s afraid," Graber said. "Yes, naturally. But he’s a good dog." "And a man-eater." "We’re all that." "Why?" "We are. And we think, just like that dog, that we are still good. And just like him we are looking for a bit of warmth and light and friendship.

He'll survive, she told herself. That is also life.

He would have died soon, but more painfully. Anyway, it was Urban Bloodshed Limitation. First rule: limit bloodshed by making sure that none of your own gets spilled.

High rise seldom survives the weak foundation.

His broken rib was stabbing into his side. The pain was torture, but he did not have time to think about it. He loaded a new magazine and continued shooting.

His mind It says survival of the fittest but His soul Revival of the idiots So good riddance, dancing

His red eyes swung in my direction. Without a second glance, he released the dead man's body. It hit the ground with a loud thump, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. He was already dead, but even if he wasn't, there wasn't a thing in this world I could do for him. My death was waiting in those red eyes as well, if I didn't figure out how to save myself in the next few seconds.

His touch was like an electric current that ran through his fingers into my cheek and down the back of my neck. I took another step back, away from him. "Don't do that," I whispered and hated the part of myself that died for his soft touch. "Why? Why do you do things like that if you agree we shouldn't be involved? It's confusing and... and you make it so much worse." My words tumbled over each other as they poured from my mouth. He didn't reach for me again. His blue eyes were sad.

Here is the world. It is not a safe place, but however frightening and bewildering life may become, we can survive our fears, grab them by the wolf ’s tail as Peter did, and make peace with the world.

Hope is important. It allows you to survive. But there's a point where tough love is required if you want to change. Action is necessary. It allows you to live.

How can you say you love me when you’ve never seen me cry? when you’ve never heard the pieces that keep breaking up inside Or when the sky is dark and I’m restless in my bed will you be the one to whisper that the sun will rise ahead? You’ve never seen the battle scars that lay across my skin the price I paid for love, and a joy that grew within Sometimes the weight I carry isn't always feather light will you pick it up and stand up straight, brave against the fight? There's always room for fun and laughs and a beauty to keep warm but I'd never sail away with you if you can’t survive the storm.

How could I admit that the All-American Girl's force field of stoicism and self-reliance and do-unto-others-and-keep-smiling wasn't working, wasn't keeping pain and shame and powerlessness away? From a young age I had learned to get over - to cover my tracks emotionally, to hide or ignore my problems in the belief that they were mine alone to solve. So when exhilarating transgressions required getting over on authority figures, I knew how to do it. I was a great bluffer. And when common, everyday survival in prison required getting over, I could do that too. This is what was approvingly described by my fellow prisoners as 'street-smarts,' as in 'You wouldn't think it to look at her, but Piper's got street-smarts.

How do you achieve excellence? 1. Mindset 2. Discipline 3. Commitment 4. Consistency

He was a survivor, like me

However much he denied it, he always hoped that they'd be kinder to each other one day, like people who were grateful to survive something instead of people still fighting to survive. Wherever that small seed of hope resided, it no longer exists, and what they were to each other is what they will always be. Tethered somehow. Dawn together by a force that should've kept them close but repelled them instead.

Honor,” I said with a snort. “Honor has no place in survival.

How in any way does EQUALITY with other people equate to 'religious persecution'? Does the survival of a religion depend on the vilification and desecration of the humanity of others?

How do you tell someone it’s surprisingly easy to surrender to horror once you accept there’s no way out? Survival is simply the art of suffering gracefully when we’re up against forces out of our control. I lost my fear of dying because I expected it every minute of every day. Tomorrows only exist in our minds.

Human beings are not the central focus of the world. We may dominate the world, but just like all other creatures we have to fit in and struggle to survive.

How many close encounters with death can one person survive? At the age of 21, I had surpassed more than 10 such close encounters with death, which began when I was but 5 years of age. This enemy who has been hotly pursuing me for more than 16 years has no shame to his game at all. At least with me there were certain things I would’ve never done, and knowingly hurt a child was just one of them.

Hunting was a crucial part of humans' survival 100,000 years ago, but today hunting is now nothing more than a violent form of recreation.