Best 465 quotes in «survivor quotes» category

There was a whole batch of mc's that came out with me and a lot of them got more exposure than me but now a lot of them are out of the game, I'm still here, I'm a survivor so that's what makes me move the way I move.

The title of hero is bestowed by the survivors upon the fallen, who themselves know nothing of heroism.

The truth is that History, with its imposing capital H, is simply the amalgamation of many quotidian lives lived in very ordinary ways. History is always personal. If you read Holocaust survivor or American slavery survivor narratives, you realize all too well that these great Historical moments were personal to someone at some time.

Though I can't change what happened, I can choose how to react. And I don't want to spend the rest of my life being bitter and locked up.

Violence ends up defeating itself. It creates bitterness in the survivors and brutality in the destroyers.

We are so used to seeing women as victims of war to be pitied rather than survivors of war to be respected.

You'll beat this. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you will. You're a survivor." "I don't want to survive it." "I know that, too," Nell had said. "And it's fair enough. But sometimes we don't have a choice.

You told me it was a mistake to fight the scarred warriors. They were the survivors.

Abused children as they grow to believe that they are damaged beyond repair.

Abuse ambushed my life, I could not love myself truly and could never have a healthy relationship, they were either abused or completely impaired.

After all, life is a voyage, and you cannot start out this voyage all over once more. You need to be in shape for this trip.

After what she's been through, there really should be crime scene tape around her heart.

All abuse is damaging and harmful, even if it took place once or infinite times.

All this occupied his thoughts when he revisited the places of his war. Tramping over soil fed by the blood of men he had led and whose faces now stirred in his memory, it was his wife's response that came - as if in compensation for too little said before - when he wondered why his wandering had led him back to these old battlefields: in his sixty-ninth year he was establishing his survivor's status.

Also overstating what happened to us will only create a void in our reality.

An abused child never feels safe, growing up. The wrong that this child has gone through can never be seen or easily imagined by those who have never been abused.

And when hope returns to us, it will be with a passion and power to match every ounce of this crushing despair and pain, every fiery shred of determination that carried us when hope failed. It will claim us with a courage that will make the goddess herself quake and doubt herself.

Another preoccupation fed into this dynamic relationship between discovery and denial: does sexual abuse actually matter? Should it, in fact, be allowed? After all, it was only in the 19070s that the Paedophile Information Exchange had argued for adults’ right to have sex with children – or rather by a slippery sleight of word, PIE inverted the imperative by arguing that children should have the right to have sex with adults. This group had been disbanded after the imprisonment of Tom O’Carroll, its leader, with some of its activists bunkered in Holland’s paedophile enclaves, only to re-appear over the parapets in the sex crime controversies of the 1990s. How recent it was, then, that paedophilia was fielded as one of the liberation movements, how many of those on the left and right of the political firmament, were – and still are – persuaded that sex with children is merely another case for individual freedom? Few people in Britain at the turn of the century publicly defend adults’ rights to sex with children. But some do, and they are to be found nesting in the coalition crusading against evidence of sexual suffering. They have learned from the 1970s, masked their intentions and diverted attention on to ‘the system’. Others may not have come out for paedophilia but they are apparently content to enter into political alliances with those who have. We believe that this makes their critique of survivors and their allies unreliable. Others genuinely believe in false memories, but may not be aware of the credentials of some of their advisors.

A politician is a man in his natural state

A refugee is someone who survived and who can create the future.

Are you attentive when your inner self-speaks to you?

Are you capable to truly distinguish the person you envision in the mirror?

As I explored my soul, now I know I have survived schizophrenia; hearing voices, reduced social engagement, emotional expression and lack of motivation.

As Lynn began getting psychologically better, she took me to a variety of sites. She taught me how to read trail markers. In the end, Lynn's stories could not be denied. She was not only a victim, she wanted badly to heal. As her experiences were told and worked through, as she slowly began to come to grips with her past, the personalities within her have slowly begun to heal.

As these abuse children grow, they oppose the lies (that they still trust and believe to be true) to the verity that they pick up and they get all thrown when they conflict and friction.

Atheists are the most honest of the human race. These people are unable to live a double life; they are unable to lie to themselves. Of course it's an evolutionary handicap, and if that handicap was widespread, our species would run the risk of extinction

A terrible sadness threatened to overwhelm me as I wondered how two people capable of such love for each other had eventually felt so little for the child they had produced between them.

At times I am flabbergasted that my memory is considered false and my alcoholic father's memory is considered rational and sane. Am I not believed because I am a woman? If Peter Freyd were a man who lived in my neighborhood during my childhood instead of my father, would he and his wife be so believable? If not, what is it about his status as my father that makes him more credible?

A victorious person continues to learn in all given circumstances.

A victorious person knows to own his failure, he is aware how to bring out good, even in the worst form of failures.

A warrior is defined by his scars, not his medals.

Be an empowertarian. A person who empowers their own life and that of others.

Being highly sensitive does not at all rule out being, in your own way, a tenacious survivor.

Being in a state of denial is a universally human response to situations which threaten to overwhelm. People who were abused as children sometimes carry their denial like precious cargo without a port of destination. It enabled us to survive our childhood experiences, and often we still live in survival mode decades beyond the actual abuse. We protect ourselves to excess because we learned abruptly and painfully that no one else would.

Being survivors signifies that we have recognized that we have been through a lot that should never have taken place and we now hope to let our wounds heal and recuperate.

Her Kind I have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil, I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light: lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind. A woman like that is not a woman, quite. I have been her kind. I have found the warm caves in the woods, filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves, closets, silks, innumerable goods; fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves: whining, rearranging the disaligned. A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind. I have ridden in your cart, driver, waved my nude arms at villages going by, learning the last bright routes, survivor where your flames still bite my thigh and my ribs crack where your wheels wind. A woman like that is not ashamed to die. I have been her kind.

Bound by Blood, Marked by the Dragonfly.

Breaking free is only the beginning. Then begins the painful process of reversing the indoctrination. The longer someone stays in a cult the harder it is for them to remember who they were before the cult took control of their mind. Or in the case of someone like me, a cult-born child, my entire personality was made and created by them. When I left I had no idea who I was. My whole existence, everything I thought I knew, had been a lie. But it is the psychological aftermath of life in a cult that is all too often the silent killer.

Bu ömür boyu sahip olduğum altı yüz kırk birinci balık. Tanrı'nın yarattığı başka bir canlıya bakmayı ve sevmeyi öğrenmem için ailem yıllar önce ilk balığımı almıştı. Sahip olduğum altı yüz kırk balıktan sonra öğrendiğim tek şey, insanın sevdiği her şeyin bir gün öleceği oldu. O özel kişiyle karşılaştığın ilk anda, onun bir gün ölüp toprağın altına gireceğine emin olabilirsin... ... Gerçek, parlayıp ışık saçmaz. ... Öyle sıkıcı işler vardı ki, çalışmamak için insan kendini sakat bırakabilirdi. ... Zamanın sınırlı olduğu, kanunlar ve emirlerle dolu ve mülkiyete dayalı bu dünyada insanların yaşayabilecekleri tek gerçek macera uyuşturucu. ... Birinin zayıf olduğunu hayal etmek, onun güçlü olduğuna inanmaktan çok daha kolay. ...

Cancer is not a single disease, and it almost certainly can't ever be addressed with a single magical potion. It has to be approached with a variety of protocols. So when well-meaning peopleーor, more infuriatingly, certain cancer organizations that ought to know betterーtalk about finding "the cure" for "this disease", it's a good bet that they are talking a lot of nonsense.

Carla's description was typical of survivors of chronic childhood abuse. Almost always, they deny or minimize the abusive memories. They have to: it's too painful to believe that their parents would do such a thing. So they fragment the memories into hundreds of shards, leaving only acceptable traces in their conscious minds. Rationalizations like "my childhood was rough," "he only did it to me once or twice," and "it wasn't so bad" are common, masking the fact that the abuse was devastating and chronic. But while the knowledge, body sensations, and feelings are shattered, they are not forgotten. They intrude in unexpected ways: through panic attacks and insomnia, through dreams and artwork, through seemingly inexplicable compulsions, and through the shadowy dread of the abusive parent. They live just outside of consciousness like noisy neighbors who bang on the pipes and occasionally show up at the door.

Changes in Relationship with others: It is especially hard to trust other people if you have been repeatedly abused, abandoned or betrayed as a child. Mistrust makes it very difficult to make friends, and to be able to distinguish between good and bad intentions in other people. Some parts do not seem to trust anyone, while other parts may be so vulnerable and needy that they do not pay attention to clues that perhaps a person is not trustworthy. Some parts like to be close to others or feel a desperate need to be close and taken care of, while other parts fear being close or actively dislike people. Some parts are afraid of being in relationships while others are afraid of being rejected or criticized. This naturally sets up major internal as well as relational conflicts.

Children do not have reasoning capability or emotive development; thus, they are unable to precisely gauge what is going on with them.

Closeness was the promise of suffering and pain

Coming to terms with incest is not easy. Learning to be a survivor, not a victim, gives new meaning to life

Competition may help us create better products and services but in the end competition really seeks to destroy the opponent. To put him out of the power to compete against you.

Complex PTSD consists of of six symptom clusters, which also have been described in terms of dissociation of personality. Of course, people who receive this diagnosis often also suffer from other problems as well, and as noted earlier, diagnostic categories may overlap significantly. The symptom clusters are as follows: Alterations in Regulation of Affect ( Emotion ) and Impulses Changes in Relationship with others Somatic Symptoms Changes in Meaning Changes in the perception of Self Changes in Attention and Consciousness

Consider also the special word they used: survivor. Something new. As long as they didn't have to say human being. It used to be refugee, but by now there was no such creature, no more refugees, only survivors. A name like a number -- counted apart from the ordinary swarm. Blue digits on the arm, what difference? They don't call you a woman anyhow. Survivor. Even when your bones get melted into the grains of the earth, still they'll forget human being. Survivor and survivor and survivor; always and always. Who made up these words, parasites on the throat of suffering!

Dear past, I survived you. Dear present, I’m ready for you. Dear future, I’m coming for you.

Did I imagine the castle, the dungeon, the ritual orgies and violations? Did Lucy, Billy, Samuel, Eliza, Shirley and Kato make it all up? I went back to the industrial estate and found the castle. It was an old factory that had burned to the ground, but the charred ruins of the basement remained. I closed my eyes and could see the black candles, the dancing shadows, the inverted pentagram, the people chanting through hooded robes. I could see myself among other children being abused in ways that defy imagination. I have no doubt now that the cult of devil worshippers was nothing more than a ring of paedophiles, the satanic paraphernalia a cover for their true lusts: the innocent bodies of young children.