Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Why must we fight for the right to live, over and over, each time the sun rises?
Survival often feels like an indignity.
Who wants to die? Everything struggles to live. Look at that tree growing up there out of that grating. It gets no sun, and water only when it rains. It's growing out of sour earth. And it's strong because its hard struggle to live is making it strong. My children will be strong that way.
Every body resisted (the slaughterer) in its own fashion, tried to escape and seemed to argue with the Creator to its last breath.
He didn't care about the others anymore. The chaos around him seemed to siphon away his humanity, turn him into an animal. All he wanted was to survive, make it to that building, get inside. Live. Gain another day.
You are going to use this courtroom to kill me? I am going to fight for my life one way or another. You should let me do it with words.
When the men kill, it is up to us women to fight for the preservation of life.
