#sacrifice

Free yourself from one passion to be dominated by another and nobler one. But is not that, too, a form of slavery? To sacrifice oneself to an idea, to a race, to God? Or does it mean that the higher the model the longer the tether of our slavery? Then we can enjoy ourselves and frolic in a more spacious arena and die without having come to the end of the tether. Is that, then, what we call liberty? ↗

— Nikos Kazantzakis

#liberty #passion #sacrifice #freedom

You think me noble?” She rolled to her side facing him. “Am I saint-like? Do I slay dragons and hang the moon as well? ↗

— Jessica Fortunato

#moon #noble #sacrifice #saint #friendship

You don't get it, Clary. You don't understand what it's like to live always at war, to grow up with battle and sacrifice. I guess it's not your fault. It's just how you were brought up- ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#city-of-glass #isabelle-lightwood #life #mortal-instruments #sacrifice

In a brutal country like ours, where human life is 'cheap', it's stupid to destroy yourself for the sake of your beliefs. Beliefs? High ideas? Only people in rich countries can enjoy such luxuries. ↗

— Orhan Pamuk

#sacrifice #life

The first question which the priest and the Levite asked was: 'If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?' But...the good Samaritan reversed the question: 'If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him? ↗

— Martin Luther King Jr.

#neighbor #sacrifice #service #love

Without sacrifice, true love is incomprehensible. ↗

— Toba Beta

#sacrifice #true-love #love

I became intent on saving him through showing him that he was loved. ↗

— Joyce Johnson

#kerouac #love #rescue-mentality #sacrifice #love

What's going on?" he asked, looking from face to face. "I was having a good dream." "I need you," said Lisa. "I hear that from women a lot. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#dreams

Why don't people ask us about our hope? The answer is probably that we look as if we hope in the same things they do. Our lives don't look like they are on the Calvary road, stripped down for sacrificial love, serving others with the sweet assurance that we don't need to be rewarded in this life. ↗

— John Piper

#hope #life #sacrifice #service #life

She had been wrong in thinking Christ had been called up against his will to fight in a war. He didn't look - in spite of the crown of thorns - like someone making a sacrifice. Or even like someone determined to "do his bit". He looked instead like Marjorie had looked telling Polly she'd joined the Nursing Service, like Mr Humphreys had looked filling buckets with water and sand to save Saint Paul's, like Miss Laburnum had looked that day she came to Townsend Brothers with the coats. He looked like Captain Faulknor must have looked, lashing the ships together. Like Ernest Shackleton, setting out in that tiny boat across icy seas. Like Colin helping Mr Dunworthy across the wreckage. He looked ... contented. As if he was where he wanted to be, doing what he wanted to do. Like Eileen had looked, telling Polly she'd decided to stay. Like Mike must have looked in Kent, composing engagement announcements and letters to the editor. Like I must have looked there in the rubble with Sir Godfrey, my hand pressed against his heart. Exalted. Happy. To do something for someone or something you loved - England or Shakespeare or a dog or the Hodbins or history - wasn't a sacrifice at all. Even if it cost you your freedom, your life, your youth. ↗

— Connie Willis

#sacrifice #freedom