courage is not the absence of fear

LESSONS TO BE LEARNED FROM SKAM

eva reminds me that sometimes what seems like the worst time in your life will turn out to be the best one instead

noora reminds me that it’s ok to not always act according to my moral principles. it’s human not to always be your best self.

vilde reminds me that real friends will forgive you

sana reminds me that there are way more important things than how other people see me

chris reminds me that i need to be that loyal friend standing up for the ones i care for more often

jonas reminds me that real friends will always wait for and listen to you

magnus reminds me that i should take myself a lot less seriously and i will still be a good person

eskild reminds me that real friends will criticize you because they will want you to be a better person

linn reminds me that it’s ok to prefer staying to partying as long as you’re happy with it

isak reminds me that courage isn’t the absence of fear, but the will to do something even though you’re afraid of it

even reminds me that i can live a life with my mental health issues and it can still be a good one

When she joined a “swim-in” in St. Augustine, Florida on June 18, 1964, then 17-year-old Mamie Nell Ford had little idea that her picture would soon be seen around the world – and help spur the passage of the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964. On that day, seven civil rights activists, including Ford, jumped into the segregated pool at the Monson Motor Lodge to protest its ‘whites-only’ policy. As journalists looked on, the motel owner’s James Brock responded by dumping acid into the pool in an effort to drive them out. Ford recalls that her immediate reaction was “I couldn’t breathe,” and a photo of her with an alarmed expression as Brock pours acid nearby appeared in newspapers around the world. When people learn about the incident today, Ford says, “I’m often asked, ‘How could you have so much courage?’ Courage for me is not ‘the absence of fear,’ but what you do in the face of fear.”

The campaign to challenge segregation in St. Augustine in 1963 and 1964, known as the St. Augustine Movement, is considered one of the bloodiest of the Civil Rights Movement. Students staging “wade-ins” to challenge segregation on the beaches were violently beaten and, after several black children were admitted into white schools due to the Supreme Court’s decision outlawing school segregation, several of the children’s homes were burnt to the ground by local segregationists. Martin Luther King, Jr. was even arrested on the steps of this same motel only a week prior to the pool “swim-in,” after being charged with trespassing when he attempted to dine at the “whites-only” Monson Restaurant.

Prior to the pool “swim-in”, Ford was already an experienced civil rights activist in her hometown of Albany, Georgia. When Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference came to Albany to recruit activists to support the movement in St. Augustine, she immediately signed up. “When they asked for volunteers to participate in the swim-in demonstration, I said, yes, because, despite segregation, I knew how to swim,” she says. While they knew it was likely they would be arrested, no one expected the owner to pour acid into the pool. “It is as fresh in my mind as the morning dew, because when the acid was poured in the pool, the water began to bubble up,” Ford recalls. Although the group was arrested shortly thereafter, their protest had the intended effect: as it made headlines worldwide, President Johnson said in a recorded phone conservation: “Our whole foreign policy will go to hell over this!” Within 24 hours, the civil rights bill that had been introduced a year before and had been stalled in the Senate won approval, leading directly to the passage of the historic Civil Rights Act of 1964.

After being released from serving jail time for the swim-in, Ford made a powerful statement urging the people of St. Augustine to keep fighting: “Don’t lose heart now because you’re the ones on whom this movement rests. People will come and go because they live somewhere else, but you live here and you make this thing happen.” She returned home and went on to join five other black girls to lead the desegregation of the formerly all-white Albany High School, where she graduated with honors in 1965. Ford, who later changed her name to Mimi Jones, then went to college in Boston where she spent her career working in the Department of Education.

Although less well known than school segregation, the long legacy of segregation in swimming pools still lives on today. After legal challenges and actions like this one in St. Augustine forced the end of segregated pools, in many towns, especially in the South, ‘white flight’ from public pools to private clubs often led to their closure. The impact of first segregation and later pool closures over generations has led to a major gap between white and black Americans in swimming ability, with whites being twice as likely to know how to swim as blacks. This difference is also reflected in the CDC finding that black children are three times more likely die from drowning than white children. For these reasons and the long legacy of racism at swimming pools, Simone Manuel’s victory at the last Olympic Games took on special meaning for many African Americans – a significance the young swimmer alluded to after she became the first African-American woman to ever win an individual Olympic gold in swimming: “The gold medal wasn’t just for me,“ she said. "It’s for a lot of people who came before me.”

Picture and text from "A Mighty Girl” on Facebook

anonymous asked:

What if Jamie wasn't an outlaw when he met Claire and Jamie could court her properly? How would Claire react to that when if she was still trying to get home?

Anon asked: what do you think it would have happened if Jamie and Claire didn’t have to get married? Do you think our hero could have find a way to marry the Sassenach or at least, make her fall in love with her without all the amazing sex?

Mod Note: I genuinely did not intend to continue this story (despite many requests), but I am finally bringing one of my first Imagine pieces out of the archives to explore these intriguing prompts! A bit of a slow burn on this one, but hang in there with me! -Mod Bonnie


Hail Mary

Part I  Part II


Part III

The canteen hit Jamie’s jaw squarely with a sharp THWOCK.

“A mhic an diabhoil!” he snarled, looking wildly around and finding the culprit at once. “Damn you, Murtagh, what in God’s name was that for?!”

“To see if I could get yer gob to close all the way,” the usually-dour clansman said with a smirk, arms crossed. “A wee brown-haired lass seems to have broken your hinge this morning.”

Murtagh saw the canteen coming and ducked, laughing as it clattered against the nearby tree. “Careful, ye wee smout—that’s the good whisky!”

Despite Jamie’s annoyance, the corners of his mouth were twitching as he returned to finish unlashing the bundles from his saddle; and, conveniently, returning him to the sight of Mistress Beauchamp carrying a bedroll to the place she’d claimed for her lean-to.

The man was right: Jamie hadn’t been able to stop looking at her all day: sidelong as they rode; catching her eye as they stopped for water; training his gaze on back of her head when she nudged her mount past his on the road to speak with Ned. Always and completely: she was all he saw, this day.

He had been drawn to Mistress Beauchamp from the first—when she mended his shoulder; when he held her at Leoch; but now…Christ, he was all but consumed by her; and how could he not be? Having slept with her in his arms? Remembering the scent of her hair? Now knowing the shapes of her under his hands; what it was to hear sounds of desire from her lips as she moved against him, seeking?

And above all, to know that she had stayed. Aye, she had slept in his arms, but any lass might have done the same with any man, to save her own life….but upon waking this morning, she was flustered, had made to rise, and yet at the barest suggestion, she had stayed there in his arms for nigh on an hour, waiting for the rest of camp to awaken. They both had assumed pretense of sleep, but neither of them had allowed themselves to drift away. Her breathing had stayed quick; he could feel it, warm and shallow at the base of his throat. She surely had felt his heart thudding away, with her ear resting so near it.

No, they hadn’t slept; nor had they spoken. They’d held one another

And there, at the last, he’d brought one hand—shaking—to softly, gently, slowly come to rest on the curve of her head. She’d gasped and made as if to—say something? Move?  Christ, touch him back?

And just at that moment, the camp had come alive. Before he could blink, she had gotten to her feet and the day began as it always did. Boiling water; folding, packing; bannocks and whisky; back on the long road through the glens; all just as it was every day.

But today, he couldn’t stop looking at her.

At Mistress Beauchamp, who had slept in his arms.

But God, he had to stop thinking about her. She was the finest woman he’d ever met —but he could offer her no future, as a wanted criminal. None. He wouldn’t subject her to the dangers a life with him would entail. He had to stop thinking about her.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“Ye did a good thing, Jamie, lad,” Murtagh said, yanking Jamie back once more from grim reverie, deep brown eyes watching him. “Keeping the lass last night as ye did. You’re the only one that could ha’ done it for her properly.”

“Aye,” he coughed, “well, I… she….” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, unfurling his tent canvas.  “I’m glad to’ve been of service to her.”

Murtagh made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a harrumph.

“And what’s that supposed to signify?” Jamie snapped, tugging at his stock. Hadn’t Claire nearly frozen to death last night? Then why, by Bride and all the saints, was the gathering evening so bloody HOT?

“Haud yer wheesht, lad,” Murtagh, now chuckling in earnest at Jamie’s discomfort. “Your secret doe-eyes are safe wi’ me.”

“Not doe-eyes…” Jamie muttered, feeling all of seven years of age.

“Hey.” Murtagh’s hand clapped warm on his shoulder, his eyes suddenly soft and unusually earnest. “She’s a fine woman, Jamie, Sassenach or no’.”

Aye, Jamie thought, watching the wind lift her curls into life as she rifled her wee medicine box, then made for the wood with a basket in hand, she truly is. And I can’t let myself want her.

And then the messenger rode into camp.


He waited until it was nearing sunset, when he knew she would be out gathering her wee herbs before the light went. He made for the loch under the pretext of needing a piss, seeing Murtagh watching him knowingly. Jamie knew without asking or telling that his godfather would keep an eye on the other men and prevent any from venturing in the same direction. He said a prayer, thanking God for the gift of this protector that had watched over him all his life, and continued down the path.

Sure enough, as the woods opened out into the waning crimson sunlight, he found her seated on a low boulder, looking out upon the loch, basket at her feet.

Seeing her, her unbound curls wafting sweetly in the breeze, his throat went instantly tight.

Christ, how could he do this?

Knowing her…. How could he not?

He cleared his throat and sang out with an attempt-at-cheery, “Take care no’ to fall in.”

Her head turned sharply, surprised, but a begrudging smile was already tugging at her lips. “Ned’s nowhere in sight—I think I should be safe.”

“Good,” he laughed—God, how it delighted his soul to laugh with this woman— “Best stay well shot of him.”

“But he’s such a darling!” She pursed her lips to hold back her mirth. “I’m not sure I can refuse him if he comes calling!”

“Well, do what ye must, lass,” he grinned, “I’ll be standing by to hold ye, anytime.”

She made a small sound of kind acknowledgement but looked away, suddenly shy.The silence rang between them so acutely, Jamie could hear the voices from camp, many yards distant.

“I’ve gotten some good news, Sassenach,” he said, feeling the letter in his waistcoat pocket. “I’ve…been pardoned.”

NO!” She leapt to her feet, mouth open and excitement dawning. “Oh, Jamie, that’s wonderful news!” She grabbed one of his hands in hers and squeezed it hard, practically bouncing with her enthusiasm. “God be bloody praised!!! I’m so thrilled for you! Whatever happened to bring that about?”

They sat on the boulder and he explained, grinning from ear to ear, the contents of Colum’s letter. Unbeknownst to Jamie, his uncle had been exercising all his considerable influence to get the accusations against him dropped. By some miracle, he had succeeded, and had sent a messenger at once to share the glad tidings.

Jamie read between to lines to gather that His Grace the Duke of Sandringham had been more than instrumental in getting the matter quietly resolved and Jamie’s outlaw record expunged. Jamie could just imagine the foppish gent drawling: “Anything for my DEAHHRRRR Jamie,” in those thick, unctuous tones, wet eyes glittering with anticipation.

The Duke’s predilections were well known, and such attentions had made Jamie supremely uncomfortable at the time of the man’s last visit. However, God bless him and all his house, if such affections had just saved Jamie from a life of flight and ultimately the noose. 

And ten times the blessing to him if it meant Jamie’s honor was now completely unhindered…that he was completely free to….

“What have ye been gathering, then?” he blurted, feeling his wame clenching in anxiety.

“Good Lord,” she laughed, startled, “you suddenly want to talk about herbs after such splendid news!?”

“My life is my own again,” he said, shrugging, “I want to talk about anything and everything.”

“Cress,” she said affably, nudging the basket with her foot. “Didn’t manage to bring back any last night, after all, what with one thing and another.” 

She paused suddenly, furrowing her eyebrows. She was leaning on her hand, the fingertips just inches away from his plaid on the rock. 

When she spoke, her voice was soft and full of feeling. “Thank you again for…for everything. You were so—wonderful about it all.”

Jamie felt his chest swell. “Think nothing of it, lass. You’ve saved my poor hide more times than I can count these past weeks. It was about time that I should do ye a service in return.“

“Did you get any real rest? I’m afraid I must have given you a dreadfully uncomfortable time. ”

“Och, dinna fash, lass. It was just fine.”

It was the best night of all my years, mo ghraidh.

“Mistr—”

No. Not Mistress.

Claire?”

Even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, facing forward as they were, he could see her straighten and stiffen at the tone in his voice.

“I find meself—” he said, trying to force his lips to move at his bidding, but finding them slow and wooden,  “—that is—”

Help me, woman. See what’s in my heart. Surely ye ken it already.

Thank the Lord it came out sounding calm and clear:

I care for you, Claire.”

She stopped breathing. The breath actually left her, for more heartbeats than Jamie knew. The absence of it—that rhythm of her that he’d memorized, he now realized— was like whisky thrown on the fire within him, the flames roaring instantly up in fear and anticipation. He wanted so desperately to take her face in his hands so he might look into her golden eyes while telling her all his heart…but his hands were shaking and he didn’t think he could get out the words if he moved.

“I care for you as I’ve never cared for anyone in my life,” he said, mustering his courage only by focusing only on the wonder of the person beside him. “Your wit, your courage, your pigheadedness,” he laughed, his whole body glowing with sudden warmth. “The–” He clenched his hands in his lap, staring at them as if they held the proper words. “– life in you Claire, is unlike anything I have ever encountered. I havena been able to get ye out of my head since the first day we met. And then last night…”  

He heard her lips part and a long intake of breath, then a soft, inscrutable, “Jamie…”

“I ken I’ve perhaps no business saying such things. Even though I’m no longer a wanted criminal, I’ve no great wealth, and perhaps I’m nothing you ought to trouble o’er.“ He shook his head, hard. “But surely…surely ye ken as well as I what there is between us, Claire.”

He screwed up his courage and turned to face her. She was staring down into her lap, hands clasped. Her lips were pressed tight, her expression, for once, unreadable.

“I canna believe I’m alone in feeling it…this…whatever it is between you and me.” He laid a hand slowly and tenderly atop hers, his heart pounding.

She jumped when his hand touched hers, and with a jolt, Jamie saw that she had been twisting her golden ring round and round her finger.

Jamie stood at once and raised his hands in a gesture of apology. “Forgive me,  lass….”

Fraser, you dolt, have ye no sense to spare a thought for what the lass is going through?

“I’m so sorry, Claire,” he repeated. “I—I ken—that ye still grieve for your departed husband.”

Her lips went tight and Jamie saw her blink several times, hard.

“It…. isna right that ye should forget him, or even try to. If ye loved him, he must have been a good man. But I–I should–”

Courage, man. COURAGE.

“…It would be my honor to see to the care of his wife.”

Finally, she looked up, sharply, her eyes wide. She spoke in barely a whisper. “What?”

Will you marry me, Claire?”

She simply stared at him, in utter shock.

He went to his knees in front of her in the oath-giving posture, relinquishing all caution and all fear. He exhaled heavily with the relief of letting the feelings for her wash over him. “I care for you—"

I love you, he wanted to scream.

“—and now that I’m a free man, I wish to give ye everything I have. My name—my clan—the protection of my body….Claire, they’re all yours, now and forever.” He reached for her hand, trembling, dying to touch her. “If you’ll have me.”

“No.”

Jamie felt as though she’d pushed him backward into the icy lake. He opened and closed his mouth, unable to find the words for the pain ripping through him.

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I can’t marry you.” She bolted to her feet, took up her basket, and made quickly back toward the camp.

“Claire—please wait—I–”

This couldn’t be happening. This just couldn’t be.

He rose on shaking legs and tried to follow, reaching for her arm. “Sassenach, stop, please—I’m sorry if I was too—I just thought we—”

She threw off his hand and faced him only long enough to say coldly:

You were mistaken.”


Mistaken.

It should have been a night of celebration; should have been the most joyous occasion of his life–to know he was a free man, could go home at last. 

But it was hell, every moment, her words tormenting him as he played each memory he held of her over and over in his mind, every time they had ever spoken, touched, laughed, or cried together, culminating in the breathtaking intimacy of the previous night. Was it lust deluding him? Was it pure, lecherous desire for her body that had colored these memories and called them love?

No.

NO, damn it all!

He knew his heart. And hers—Christ, it danced across her face so freely, that—No, he was not mistaken.

Perhaps she was frightened; perhaps it was too soon.

But he was not mistaken.

It made seeing her flitting about all evening, smiling and pouring whisky liberally all ‘round the fireside — the collective mood of festivity ostensibly in honor of his pardon — all the more galling. She laughed and joked with the lads, chatted at length with Ned Gowan over documents, and generally charmed the whole camp with her golden eyes and glorious smile…everyone except him.

She’d spoken to him only once, when she offered him drink— “For you, Mr. McTavish?”— but she wouldn’t look at him.

She didn’t even know his real name. She didn’t want to know his real name.

He had wanted to drink, but hadn’t—couldn’t allow himself the escape of oblivion. This was his penance, to survive the long hours of the evening, watching her; the longer ones of silence and desolation, seething, hurting, long after the rest had fallen into their deep whisky-slumber. He needed to think with a clear head—to feel this, to understand.  

Christ, if he could only understand why…! If she felt for him as he for her, why deny him so cruelly? Claire was shrewd, but he’d never known her to be that. Surely she had some reason. Surely, if he could only speak with her…

In the dead of night, the grief and the pain nigh unbearable, his ears pricked up. Someone moving surreptitiously about camp.

Clasping his dirk, he slowly sat up high enough to survey the clearing. Geordie, supposed to be on sentry duty, was sound asleep and Jamie gave a silent prayer of thanks to see Claire moving quietly in the direction of the loch.

Tomorrow, they would reach the crossroads and meet once more with Dougal and the rest; there would be more folk for her to tend; more folk to observe their behavior; to hear about their unorthodox night together. He HAD to speak with her tonight.

He followed quietly, but when they were far enough away to be out of earshot of the sleepers, he spoke. “Sassenach?”

She jumped and whirled, and he instantly raised his hands palms forward. “I’m sorry—” he whispered. He came slowly toward her. “I’m so sorry, lass, I didna mean to frigh—” 

He froze, seeing her clearly now in the moonlight. “…You’re running.”  

It was not a question. She was wearing her traveling cloak, and the bundle she clutched clearly contained her medicine box. Her eyes were wide and her nostrils flaring with deep breaths. She was pointed toward the road, in the opposite direction of the horses.

“And on foot?” His voice was flat. Dead.

She shrugged stiffly, tensed as though ready to bolt. “Didn’t want to risk waking the men.”

“Where?” he croaked. Why?, he wanted to scream.

Her eyes were defiant, wide with alarm and determination. “Back to where I came from—same place I’ve been trying to go since Dougal took me captive.”

“Ye canna just go, Claire,” he said, trying to sound dismissive.

Her face was stone. “I can. I will.”

“Claire, I willna let ye do this.“

“Didn’t realize you were my jailer. What are you going to do, clap me in irons?” She was backing slowly away from him and his desperation was mounting with every pace.

“It’s wild country out there! Wolves and—brigands, and—” He was petrified, heartbroken, grasping at straws to keep her from vanishing. “At least–let me accompany you to your destination—see you safe!”

A sob rising in his throat. Christ, dinna leave this way.

A hoarse gasping as he reached for her.

“Please, mo chridhe–”

Ice in her eyes. “I don’t need your ‘protection,’ Mr. McTavish.”

A knife in his gut.

‘…the protection of my body, Claire…
…yours, now and forever.’

The sound of his heart breaking.

She was leaning into her frenzied defiance. “I did have a life before I fell into your lap, you know!” She realized what she’d said, blushed, and stammered angrily. “I mean—into the–hands of the whole bloody clan. I had a LIFE,” she repeated, “and I’m far past due to return to it!”

“Aye,” he said, low and precise, shaking with anger. “you’ve made it exceedingly clear that there’s nothing whatsoever keeping you here.”

She had the grace to look abashed. “Jamie…” He saw the muscles of her face and throat working furiously; the regret in her eyes. She even took a step toward him and made to touch his arm. “Jamie, please, I’m so…so sorry for—”

He shrugged back from her touch and skirted silently around the edge of camp. She followed him, hissing out his name, but he did not slow his pace until he reached the horses. He located her mount and unhobbled it, leading it a hundred yards away from the others, picking up saddle and gear as he want.

When she at last caught up with him, he plucked the bundle from her arms, fastening it perfunctorily to her saddle.

“Jamie, wait—”

Her face was upturned to him, so white and so perfect it made the pain writhe within his chest. He marshaled his features into his mask of impassivity and gave a cordial nod. “I wish ye the best of fortune in your life, Mistress.

She reached for him, pleading. “Jamie, listen, I—”

He pressed the smaller of his dirks into her hand. “Goodbye, Claire.”

And without a backward glance—though he wished to throw his arms around her and beg her, beg her not to leave—he turned on his heel back toward the fires, listening first to the silence, then the jingle of harness and the sound of hooves going quietly off into the night.

He didn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t. He lay awake, breaking apart, wrapped in a blanket that still held the scent of her hair.


[to be continued]

Part five of my quotes collection is dedicated to the leaders! This one is a little bit longer, and believe me, I know I’m leaving out some leaders on this list and it may feel a bit scattered. But as always, I hope you enjoy these quotes and add them to your own collection!

Alexander the Great 

  • “There is nothing impossible to him who will try.”
  • “Remember upon the conduct of each depends the fate of all.”
  • “I had rather excel others in the knowledge of what is excellent, than in the extent of my power and dominion.”

Napoleon Bonaparte

  • “A leader is a dealer in hope.”
  • “Courage is like love; it must have hope for nourishment.”
  • “Victory belongs to the most persevering.”
  • “He who fears being conquered is sure of defeat.”
  • “Ten people who speak make more noise than ten thousand who are silent.”
  • “The people to fear are not those who disagree with you, but those who disagree with you and are too cowardly to let you know.”

Dalai Lama

  • “We can never obtain peace in the outer world until we make peace with ourselves.”
  • “In order to carry a positive action we must develop here a positive vision.”
  • “Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions.”
  • “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.”
  • “Home is where you feel at home and are treated well.”
  • “The purpose of our lives is to be happy.”
  • “The important thing is that men should have a purpose in life. It should be something useful, something good.”
  • “With realization of one’s own potential and self-confidence in one’s ability, one can build a better world.”
  • “When you are discontent, you always want more, more, more. Your desire can never be satisfied. But when you practice contentment, you can say to yourself, ‘Oh yes - I already have everything that I really need.'”
  • “Old friends pass away, new friends appear. It is just like the days. An old day passes, a new day arrives. The important thing is to make it meaningful: a meaningful friend - or a meaningful day.”

Catherine the Great 

  • “I beg you take courage; the brave soul can mend even disaster.”

Winston Churchill

  • “Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.”
  • “Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”
  • “You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something, sometime in your life.”
  • “We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.”
  • “Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.”
  • “Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference.”
  • “To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often.”
  • “Difficulties mastered are opportunities won.”
  • “Continuous effort - not strength or intelligence - is the key to unlocking our potential.”
  • “If you’re going through hell, keep going.”
  • “The price of greatness is responsibility.”
  • “Kites rise highest against the wind - not with it.”
  • “Never give in - never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense.”

Nelson Mandela

  • “It always seems impossible until its done.”
  • “A good head and a good heart are always a formidable combination.”
  • “We must use time wisely and forever realize that the time is always ripe to do right.”
  • “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.”
  • “After climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb.”
  • “There is no passion to be found playing small - in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.”
  • “I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”
  • “Courageous people do not fear forgiving, for the sake of peace.”
  • “Any man or institution that tries to rob me of my dignity will lose.”

Martin Luther King. Jr. 

  • “I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.”
  • “Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.”
  • “Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend.”
  • “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
  • “The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”
  • “We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”
  • “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”
  • “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”
  • “The time is always right to do what is right.”
  • “We may have all come on different ships, but we’re in the same boat now.”
  • “I am not interested in power for power’s sake, but I’m interested in power that is moral, that is right and that is good.”
  • “The quality, not the longevity, of one’s life is what is important.”
  • “Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable… Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals.”
  • “We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.”

Margaret Thatcher

  • “Disciplining yourself to do what you know is right and important, although difficult, is the highroad to pride, self-esteem, and personal satisfaction.”
  • “If you set out to be liked, you would be prepared to compromise on anything at any time, and you would achieve nothing.”
  • “You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it.”
  • “What is success? I think it is a mixture of having a flair for the thing that you are doing; knowing that it is not enough, that you have got to have hard work and a certain sense of purpose.”

Franklin D. Roosevelt

  • “The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today.”
  • “There are many ways of going forward, but only one way of standing still.”
  • “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”
  • “Happiness lies in the joy of achievement and the thrill of creative effort.”
  • “When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on.”

Theodore Roosevelt

  • “Believe you can and you’re halfway there.”
  • “Far and away the best prize that life has to offer is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”
  • “In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing.”
  • “Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure… than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.”
  • “Nobody cares how much you know, until they know how much you care.”
  • “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.”
  • “With self-discipline most anything is possible.”
  • “The only man who never makes a mistake is the man who never does anything.”
  • “It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.”
  • “Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground.”
  • “It is only through labor and painful effort, by grim energy and resolute courage, that we move on to better things.”
  • “Never throughout history has a man who lived a life of ease left a name worth remembering.”
  • “I care not what others think of what I do, but I care very much about what I think of what I do! That is character!” 

Mohandas Gandhi

  • “First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.”
  • “Where there is love there is life.”
  • “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”
  • “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”
  • “Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”
  • “The good man is the friend of all living things.”
  • “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.”
  • “Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.”
  • “You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.”
  • “There is more to life than increasing its speed.”
  • “Nobody can hurt me without my permission.”
  • “Each one has to find his peace from within. And peace to be real must be unaffected by outside circumstances.”
  • “Whatever you do may seem insignificant to you, but it is most important that you do it.”
  • “You can chain me, you can torture me, you can even destroy this body, but you will never imprison my mind.”
  • “To believe in something, and not to live it, is dishonest.”
  • “In a gentle way, you can shake the world.”
  • “Truth never damages a cause that is just.”
  • “Fear has its use but cowardice has none.”
  • “We may stumble and fall but shall rise again; it should be enough if we did not run away from the battle.”

Abraham Lincoln

  • “Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other.”
  • “Things may come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle.”
  • “I am not bound to win, but I am bound to be true. I am not bound to succeed, but I am bound to live by the light that I have. I must stand with anybody that stands right, and stand with him while he is right, and part with him when he goes wrong.”
  • “Don’t worry when you are not recognized, but strive to be worthy of recognition.”
  • “I do the very best I know how - the very best I can; and I mean to keep on doing so until the end.”
  • “My great concern is not whether you have failed, but whether you are content with your failure.”
  • “You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today.”
  • “Whatever you are, be a good one.”
  • “Be sure you put your feet in the right place, then stand firm.”
  • “In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.”

anonymous asked:

To that Gryffindor who doesn't always feel brave: Gryffindors aren't just about being brave. Just like Ravenclaws ≠ just smart, Slytherins ≠ just ambitious, Hufflepuffs ≠ just loyal. Gryffindors are steadfast about their beliefs, values, and morals. When we find something to fight for, THAT is when we exhibit our "bravery". "Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that there is something else more important than fear." - Franklin D. Roosevelt. Own it, my lionhearted friend 🦁

-Jamie (Gryffindor)

ashtraysonfire  asked:

How can i stop being so fearfull and just trust

Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the irrelevance of fear. 

To be courageous means to not move the way fear makes you move. It means you don’t think the way fear makes you think. Even if you feel fear, it does not possess you and force you to dance to its tunes. 

This kind of courage requires both focus and relaxation. These are qualities developed exquisitely through meditation practice. 

Meditation reveals to us how we can be present with whatever neurosis is going through our minds and bodies. We don’t need to push it away or run away. We can feel anything and not be undone by those feelings. 

You just breathe and hold your ground. Remain focused and relaxed. Thus you maintain touch with a basic kind of sanity. It is very natural and familiar once you get the hang of it. 

A book I would highly recommend is The Places That Scare You by Pema Chodron. It will be remarkably helpful. 

Namaste :) Much love. 

I love Lup taking potshots at the Hunger. I love Justin recognizing that even though they share that self-preservation instinct, she’s a little braver than Taako, a little more foolhardy. I love the idea of Lup standing up for her brother and getting into fights for him, of Taako worrying about losing her and telling her keep your head down, Lup, stay hidden, we just need to stick together. I love Lup growing to a place of courage not being the absence of fear, but persevering despite it. I love Lup laughing in the Umbra staff when Taako tells Lucretia he’s the bravest before the test of iniation, knowing she’s just going to have to keep fighting his battles, huh?

600 Follower Ficlet (6/10)

@mccoymostly requested TOS McKirk or McSpirk with the prompt  “I think I’m still processing everything. Ask me how I am later.”

I don’t know how you feel about The Corbomite Maneuver but this is where my brain went with this request. :)


Leonard found Jim in the officers’ lounge, glass of Saurian brandy in hand and looking worse for wear.  Taking a seat on the stool next to the captain, Leonard poured himself a glass, too, and sipped, savoring the liquor on his tongue for a moment.  He said nothing, but he knew he didn’t have to.  After so many years of friendship, he knew Jim could read him like an open book, and so he simply stared over at the other man, waiting for him to speak.

I think I’m still processing everything,” Jim said flatly.  “Ask me how I am later .”

Leonard inclined his head.

“I think it’ll be good for Bailey, spending some time with Balok,” he mused instead.

Silence hung in the air between them for a beat.

“I suppose I should come out and admit that I was wrong about him, and about you,” Leonard said lightly, draining his glass.  “He came around quicker than I’d have imagined.  Looked like he was ready to go down with the ship.”

Jim laughed humorlessly, swirling the last mouthful of brandy in his glass around in it, watching the overhead lights dance on the liquid’s surface.

“Courage is not the absence of fear, Doctor,” Jim offered.  “Lieutenant Bailey just needed a chance to learn that for himself, and he’s a better crewman for it.”

“He’ll be even better when we get him back,” Leonard added, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a crooked smile.  “It’ll do him good to step outside of his comfort zone.”

Jim nodded again and drained his own glass as the sound of the lounge door sliding shut echoed in the room around them.  He glanced over his shoulder to ensure the room was empty of anyone but them and then met Bones’ gaze.

“I could have gotten the entire crew killed today, Bones,” he said gravely.

“Your crew needed you to take action, and you did,” Leonard reasoned.  “Your duty as a captain is to make critical decisions, even if it means putting your crew at risk.  You made the right call, Jim.”

Jim shook his head, reaching for the bottle again but he didn’t make it - Bones’ hand caught his wrist and held it firmly until he gave up and relented.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out for this captaincy,” Jim muttered, running a hand through his hair and dropping his head.

Leonard put a hand on his back, rubbing it in broad, comforting circles.

“You can wonder it all you want, but you can’t let the crew think you’ve got doubts about your capabilities,” Leonard said solemnly.  “They need a leader, Jim, and out here, you’re all they’ve got.  You can’t afford to let them think you’re compromised.”

Jim sighed and lifted his head again, looking over at the doctor.

“I’m tired, Bones,” he admitted, and Leonard knew he meant it in more ways than one.

“Come on, Jim,” he said softly.  “Let me walk you back to your quarters.”

Jim stood, leaving his and Leonard’s spent glasses on the counter and making his way out of the lounge in step with his best friend.  The trip to Jim’s quarters wasn’t a long one and was made in companionable silence.  Once inside, Jim found himself in Leonard’s embrace.  

They held one another for a long time, for longer than either cared to admit.  Their embraces somehow - naturally - turned into touches and were followed by disrobing, climbing into Jim’s bed, exchanging glances, sharing kisses.

If more came of it than that, neither man would admit it, even if it did feel absolutely, unabashedly right.