My grandfather was smart and had a whole lot of pride. He didn't speak a terrible amount, but you could tell there was a ton on his mind - like a quiet acceptance of how life had turned out.
Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike.
It's the great soul that surrenders itself to fate, but a puny degenerate thing that struggles.
To accept whatever comes, regardless of the consequences, is to be unafraid.
They smiled in their pains and laughed to scorn those who inflicted torments on them, resigned up their souls with great alacrity, expecting to receive them again.
When men find they must inevitably perish, they willingly resolve to die with their comrades and with their arms in their hands.
A calm despair, without angry convulsions or reproaches directed at heaven, is the essence of wisdom.
Why worry one's head over a thing that is inevitable? Why die before one's death?
He seemed, indeed, to accept everything without the least condemnation though often grieving bitterly.
Patience and submission are very carefully to be distinguished from cowardice and indolence. We are not to repine, but we may lawfully struggle; for the calamities of life, like the necessities of Nature, are calls to labor and diligence.
To bear all kinds of tortures without a murmur of resentment is not possible for a human being without the strength that comes from God.
In deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality. It is as final as the mountains: a fact. There it is. When you realize it you cannot complain.
One must not try to trick misfortune, but resign oneself to it with good grace.
