Brave Woman Quotes

You are one brave woman," he whispers, "I am in awe of you. ~ E.L. James

In a brilliant fusion of fact and fiction, Jayne Anne Phillips has written the novel of the year. It's the story of a serial killer's crimes and capture, yes, but it's also a compulsively readable story of how one brave woman faces up to acts of terrible violence in order to create something good and strong in the aftermath. Quiet Dell will be compared to In Cold Blood, but Phillips offers something Capote could not: a heroine who lights up the dark places and gives us hope in our humanity. ~ Stephen King

Mrs. O'Dowd, the good housewife, arrayed in curl papers and a camisole, felt that her duty was to act, and not to sleep, at this juncture. "Time enough for that," she said, "when Mick's gone"; and so she packed his travelling valise ready for the march, brushed his cloak, his cap, and other warlike habiliments, set them out in order for him; and stowed away in the cloak pockets a light package of portable refreshments, and a wicker-covered flask or pocket-pistol, containing near a pint of a remarkably sound Cognac brandy, of which she and the Major approved very much; ... Mrs. O'Dowd woke up her Major, and had as comfortable a cup of coffee prepared for him as any made that morning in Brussels. And who is there will deny that this worthy lady's preparations betokened affection as much as the fits of tears and hysterics by which more sensitive females exhibited their love, and that their partaking of this coffee, which they drank together while the bugles were sounding the turn-out and the drums beating in the various quarters of the town, was not more useful and to the purpose than the outpouring of any mere sentiment could be? The consequence was, that the Major appeared on parade quite trim, fresh, and alert, his well-shaved rosy countenance, as he sate on horseback, giving cheerfulness and confidence to the whole corps. All the officers saluted her when the regiment marched by the balcony on which this brave woman stood, and waved them a cheer as they passed; and I daresay ~ William Makepeace Thackeray

Dana trembled in his arms. "What's wrong?" "Company." Jon hesitated. After what she'd survived in the past weeks, would his touch be distasteful to her? He hoped not since he'd dreamed for months of holding her in his arms. He swallowed hard. "We need to move fast. I'll have to carry you, baby." Instead of the hesitation or protest he expected, Dana wrapped her arms around his neck. His heart squeezed. No time to check her for injuries. Praying he didn't hurt this brave woman, he lifted her from the bed. ~ Rebecca Deel

Who is this brave woman," he said softly between gasps, "who has pierced my heart?" Rivka smiled, at peace, and held him. She was still wearing her sword. ~ Shira Glassman

fearless face your fate. ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

Her gaze met his, her green eyes glazed and filled with shadows. "I-Iain?"
Iain understood those shadows only too well. She was in shock. She had witnessed the full horror of war. Worse, she had killed a man. Like a young soldier after his first battle, she was struggling to cope. 'Twas an anguish no woman should have to bear.
His rage broke like the tide against the shore, and before he could think, he pulled her hard against him, held her, stroked her hair. "You foolish, brave woman! Why do you no' obey me?"
"What the bloody hell is he doin'?" Connor asked from somewhere behind them.
Morgan answered, "I think he's punishin' her."
"If he tries this on the men, they'll mutiny. ~ Pamela Clare

How I hate this silk dress
that conceals a poet.

Written in the mid 9th century by a brave woman poet. Even then, even now, what is seen externally does not always define our journey. ~ Yu Hsuan-Chi

You would never expect a black woman to be the hero. ~ Sanaa Lathan

Women are not angels. They are as foolish as men in many ways; but they have had to devote themselves to life whilst men have had to devote themselves to death; and that makes a vital difference in male and female religion. Women have been forced to fear whilst men have been forced to dare: the heroism of a woman is to nurse and protect life, and of a man to destroy it and court death. ~ George Bernard Shaw

Yes,I'm seeing someone," Nick said. Standing beside them but hardly acknowledging them.He was watching for my answer on his phone.
"For how long?" a woman asked.
"Four years," I heard him say.
"Aww!" I squealed. Then I turned to Chloe. "Do I want to be in People?"
"No," she said firmly. "Nick is ot."
Gavin frowned and poked her in the side. "Hey."
She ducked away from his finger. "Facts are facts. Nick is hot,and when girls read People and see he's dating you,they will call you a skank ho. You and I have mooned over Prince William. We know the deal. ~ Jennifer Echols

It's hard to forget a woman who manages to seduce you while spouting odd literary trivia and anatomically specific threats. ~ Molly Harper

TO MR. CYRIACK SKINNER UPON HIS BLINDNESS
Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear
To outward view, of blemish or of spot;
Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot,
Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear
Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year,
Or man or woman. Yet I argue not
Against heavns hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear vp and steer
Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?
The conscience, Friend, to have lost them overply'd
In libertyes defence, my noble task,
Of which all Europe talks from side to side.
This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask
Content though blind, had I no better guide. ~ John Milton

I'll stick close to Sandy. I swear that woman isn't afraid of anything or anybody." Baldric gave Ralph a rare smile and winked. ~ D.F. Jones

It seemed that a woman should remember the night a new life began inside her. Such a miracle should not be the result of routine or an ordinary coming together. Life should begin in a cataclysm of heat and fury bathed in the sweat of passion and urgency. ~ Maggie Osborne

Nope," she managed. "No other questions."
Eleven centuries of captivity. Hung on his hated enemy's study wall. Eleven centuries of not touching. Not eating. Not loving. Had he had anyone to talk
to?
Her face must have betrayed her thoughts, for he startled her by saying softly, " 'Tis no longer of
consequence, lass, but thank you for the compassion. 'Tis nigh over. Seventeen more days, Jessica. That's all."
For some reason his words brought a sudden hot burn of tears to the backs of her eyes. Not only hadn't eleven centuries turned him into a monster, he was trying to soothe her, to make her feel better about his imprisonment.
"You weep for me, woman?"
She turned away. "It's been a long day. Hell, it's been a long week."
"Jessica." Her name was a soft command.
She disobeyed it, staring out the window at the rolling hills.
"Jessica, look at me."
Eyes bright with unshed tears, she whipped her head around and glared at him. "I weep for you, okay?" she snapped. "For eleven centuries stuck in there. Can I start driving again or do you need something else?"
He smiled faintly, raised his hand, and splayed his palm against the inside of the silvery glass. Without an ounce of conscious thought, her hand rose to
meet his, aligning on the cool silver,
palm to palm, finger to finger, thumb to thumb. And though she felt only a cold hardness beneath her palm, the gesture made something go all warm and soft in her heart.< ~ Karen Marie Moning

At the Minsk tractor factory I was looking for a woman who had served in the army as a sniper. She had been a famous sniper. The newspapers from the front had written about her more than once. Her Moscow girlfriends gave me her home phone number, but it was old. And the last name I had noted down was her maiden name. I went to the factory where I knew she worked in the personnel department, and I heard from the men (the director of the factory and the head of the personnel department): "Aren't there enough men? What do you need these women's stories for? Women's fantasies…" The men were afraid that women would tell about some wrong sort of war. I visited a family…Both husband and wife had fought. They met at the front and got married there: "We celebrated our wedding in the trench. Before the battle. I made a white dress for myself out of a German parachute." He had been a machine gunner, she a radio operator. The man immediately sent his wife to the kitchen: "Prepare something for us." The kettle was already boiling, and the sandwiches were served, she sat down with us, but the husband immediately got her to her feet again: "Where are the strawberries? Where are our treats from the country?" After my repeated requests, he reluctantly relinquished his place, saying: "Tell it the way I taught you. Without tears and women's trifles: how you wanted to be beautiful, how you wept when they cut off your braid." Later she whispered to me: "He studied The History of the Great Patriot ~ Svetlana Alexievich

Every woman is a living poem...
Most men are limericks! ~ Jose N Harris

Save the love we pay to heaven, there is none purer, holier, than that a virtuous woman feels for him she would cleave through life to. Sisters part from sisters, brothers from brothers, children from their parents, but such woman from the husband of her choice, never! ~ James Sheridan Knowles

God is the brave man's hope, and not the coward's excuse. ~ Plutarch

There's not a woman in the book, the plot hinges on unkindness to animals, and the black characters mostly drown by Chapter 29. ~ P. J. O'Rourke

What a shock it had been when she began to grow invisible to men and they no longer registered her. How humiliating to discover time had abducted her favorite version of herself and replaced it with a saggy middle-aged woman instead. ~ Kathleen Tessaro

You, woman, are without a doubt the most senseless female I could have picked to fall in love with. ~ Kat Martin

I remembered riding in the barge with Queen Katherine and how everyone had pulled off their hats as we went by and the women curtsied, and the children kissed their hands and waved. There had been a trust that the king was wise and strong and that the queen was beautiful and good and that nothing could go wrong. But Anne and the Boleyn ambition had opened a great crack in that unity and now everyone could see into the void. They could see now that the king was no better than some paltry little mayor of a fat little town, who wanted nothing more than to feather his own nest, and that he was married to a woman who knew desire, ambition and greed and longed for satisfaction. If ~ Philippa Gregory

And tears are water, blood is water,
a woman always washes in blood and tears.
Love is a step-mother, and no mother:
then expect no justice or mercy from her. ~ Marina Tsvetaeva

Or you can just start speaking up...

-Brave ~ Sara Bareilles

Then I probably fainted. The woman at the registration desk managed to put on a sympathetic expression afterward, as if she wanted to ask, "What are you going to do now?" I told her not to worry, I was really leaving, I was going home.
But go home where? Without my children I no longer had a home. ~ Barbara Honigmann

The average man is more interested in a woman who is interested in him than he is in a woman with beautiful legs. ~ Marlene Dietrich

In a husband there is only a man; in a married woman there is a man, a father, and mother, and a woman. ~ Honore De Balzac

Should I be worried?" He set down the bread. I smiled. "No. But go easy on him. He hasn't had to see me with anyone for a while. It's ... strange for him. Hearing the stories and now, seeing you here." "What are the stories?" "Oh, you know. Dark, handsome stranger whisking off innocent, sweet, loved-by-all Riley Johnson. Corrupting her weekends before sending her back a ruined woman." "Oh, is that what they're saying?" His mouth curved. I nodded, widening my eyes. "Oh yes. It's quite the scandal. ~ Alessandra Torre

Since I and so many brave survivors have come forward, titans of every industry have toppled. We survivors have gained our power. We survivors are using our voices in record numbers. We cannot let up, and as hard as it is, we must continue to get even louder, to push even harder. We all count. We all matter. Here's to freedom, yours and mine. Now go breathe fire. ~ Rose McGowan

Almost every woman had a primary role in the "female-dominated" family structure; only a small percentage of men had a primary role in the "male-dominated" governmental and religious structures. Many mothers were, in a sense, the chair of the board of a small company - their family. Even in Japan, women are in charge of the family finances - a fact that was revealed to the average American only after the Japanese stock market crashed in 1992 and thousands of women lost billions of dollars that their husbands never knew they had invested.23 Conversely, most men were on their company's assembly line - either its physical assembly line or its psychological assembly line. ~ Warren Farrell

When I looked at my life's ledger I realized I was a very rich woman. What I was experiencing was merely a temporary cash-flow problem. Finally, I came to an inner awareness that my personal net worth couldn't possibly be determined by the size of my checking account balance. Neither can yours. ~ Sarah Ban Breathnach

- And what's so bad about being soft like a woman? Why is it men or whoever, some poor bastard, some queen, can't be sensitive too, if he's got a mind to?
...
- But if men acted like women there wouldn't be anymore torturers. ~ Manuel Puig

The truly brave are soft of heart and eyes, and feel for what their duty bids them do. ~ Lord Byron

If there was a religion of Annaism, and I had to tell you how humans made their way to Earth, it would go like this: In the beginning, there was nothing at all but the moon and the sun. And the moon wanted to come out during the day, but there was something so much brighter that seemed to fill up all those hours. The moon grew hungry, thinner and thinner, until she was just a slice of herself, and her tips were as sharp as a knife. By accident, because that is the way most things happen, she poked a hole in the night and out spilled a million stars, like a fountain of tears.

Horrified, the moon tried to swallow them up. And sometimes this worked, because she got fatter and rounder.. But mostly it didn't, because there were just so many. The stars kept coming, until they made the sky so bright that the sun got jealous. He invited the stars to his side of the world, where it was always bright. What he didn't tell them, though, was that in the daytime, they'd never be seen. So the stupid ones leaped from the sky to the ground, and they froze under the weight of their own foolishness.

The moon did her best. She carved each of these blocks of sorrow into a man or a woman. She spent the rest of her time watching out so that her other stars wouldn't fall. She spent the rest of her time holding onto whatever scraps she had left. ~ Jodi Picoult

Brisbane continued. "I have led a selfish life, and I have enjoyed it. I cannot imagine a life without my work, and I cannot imagine a life without you, and yet I cannot reconcile the two." My heart, which had given a joyous leap in the middle of his speech, faltered now as I realised what he was trying to say. "I never thought to ask you to give up your work," I began. "But how can I ask you to sit idly by and wait for me to return when every time I kiss you goodbye might be the last?" "Oh, don't!" I told him, fully enraged. "How dare you blame your cowardice upon me?" His lips went white, as did the tiny crescent moon scar high upon his cheekbone. "I beg your pardon?" "Cowardice," I said distinctly. "You hide behind this pretence of fine feeling because you will not declare yourself directly and this gives you a perfect excuse, does it not? Spare poor Julia the horror of being widowed a second time. Put her up on the shelf and keep her out of harm's way whilst you amuse yourself with your dashing adventures." He opened his mouth to speak, but I stepped forward, tipping my head up to rail at him. "I am quite disappointed that you have revealed yourself to be so thoroughly conventional in your philosophy. Have I not proven myself a capable partner?" I demanded. "Have I not stood, side by side, with you, facing peril with equal courage? If you thought for a moment that I would be the meek, quiet, obedient sort of woman who would sit quietly at home mending your socks while you ~ Deanna Raybourn

It is to such sufferings that we attach the pleasure of loving, of delighting in the most insignificant remarks of a woman, which we know to be insignificant, but which we perfume with her scent. ~ Marcel Proust

Men want a woman whom they can turn on and off like a light switch. ~ Ian Fleming

The humble woman is surprised by all the good that she sees around her rather than scandalized by what she cannot judge anyway. The humble woman is grateful for her successes but not disheartened by her failures. She enjoys her gifts and readily admits her mistakes. She maintains a sense of humor, whether the news from Wall Street is giddy or glum. She faces her character defects without getting discouraged. Her humble confidence in God's love and her enchantment with the kabod Yahweh shape a hedge of thorns against self-absorption and frees her for an unselfconscious presence to others. ~ Brennan Manning

When I looked at [Fannie Lou] Hamer and that speech it seemed to me that she had to be the bravest woman ever, to come before that body and to assert her rights, when she knew that she was going lose that battle. But she did it anyway, because she knew she was speaking not just for herself and for that day, but for me, and for all the other young women who were coming behind her. She didn't know our names, but she was working for us. I find that incredibly empowering. ~ Leah D. Daughtry

No woman worth her salt would listen to a proposal without the word 'love' in it. ~ Karen Hawkins

What we love is too much in the past, consists too much in the time that we have spent together for us to require the whole woman; we wish only to be sure that it is she, not to be mistaken as to her identity, a thing far more important than beauty to those who are in love; her cheeks may grow hollow, her body thin, even to those who were originally most proud, in the eyes of the world, of their domination over beauty, that little tip of a nose, that sign in which is summed up the permanent personality of a woman, that algebraical formula, that constant, is sufficient to prevent a man who is courted in the highest society and is in love with her from being free upon a single evening because he is spending his evenings in brushing and entangling, until it is time to go to bed, the hair of the woman whom he loves, or simply in staying by her side, so that he may be with her or she with him, or merely that she may not be with other people. ~ Marcel Proust

And in the future, you know, maybe there's kids in the future for me, I don't really know. The interesting thing with me is that there has never been a woman doing what I'm doing at this level for this long. So, it's like, would Vince give me maternity leave? ~ Trish Stratus

God is the comic shepherd who gets more of a kick out of that one lost sheep once he finds it again than out of the ninety and nine who had the good sense not to get lost in the first place. God is the eccentric host who, when the country-club crowd all turned out to have other things more important to do than come live it up with him, goes out into the skid rows and soup kitchens and charity wards and brings home a freak show. The man with no legs who sells shoelaces at the corner. The old woman in the moth-eaten fur coat who makes her daily rounds of the garbage cans. The old wino with his pint in a brown paper bag. The pusher, the whore, the village idiot who stands at the blinker light waving his hand as the cars go by. They are seated at the damask-laid table in the great hall. The candles are all lit and the champagne glasses filled. At a sign from the host, the musicians in their gallery strike up Amazing Grace. ~ Frederick Buechner

An unhappy gentleman, resolving to wed nothing short of perfection, keeps his heart and hand till both get so old and withered that no tolerable woman will accept them. ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

I tend to think of love as a woman. The male version - Cupid, for instance - always seems to dumb to me. Shooting arrows like love is a weapon. ~ Matthew Quick

Fierce wee thing. There's my brave lass. ~ Kresley Cole

Broken Melody

Broken melody - tear sparkling in the eye
Of a woman loved…
Please past,
Jewel lost,
A trampled dream
Lips unkissed
In the broken melody.

With silent sobs the naked shoulders shake,
Their whiteness dazzling…
Stabbed, stabbed with remorse
For the moments of mindlessness,
For her ruined fate,
For the happiness lost
In the broken melody.

Face hidden in her hands in shame,
Remorsefully the woman weeps,
With heart despairing
(A broken guitar,
A voice stifled
On lips kissed by pain
In the broken melody).
Silent he stands beside the woman weeping

Scolding tears of shame
That dim her eyes.
Some money on the table quickly lays
And goes away,
Leaving the woman lost
In the broken melody.
But when another comes, lust mounts again,

The heated blood
Pounds furiously through the veins,
Benumbing mind
… and only gasps
And grants are heard
In the horrid melody.

(Translated by R.Elsie) ~ Millosh Gjergj Nikolla (Migjeni)

But it was not merely her choice to be a witness of the dirty work on Tier 1A. It was her role. As a woman she was not expected to wrestle prisoners into stress positions or otherwise overpower them, but rather just by her presence, to amplify their sense of powerlessness. She was there as an instrument of humiliation...The MPs knew very little about their prisoners or the culture they came from, and they understood less. But at Fort Lee, before they deployed, they were given a session of "cultural awareness training," from which they'd taken away the understanding - constantly reinforced by MI handlers - that Arab men were sexual prudes, with a particular hang-up about being seen naked in public, especially by women. What better way to break an Arab, then, than to strip him, tie him up, and have a "female bystander," as Graner describer Harman, laugh at him? American women were used on the MI block in the same way that Major David DiNenna spoke of dogs - as "force multipliers." Harman understood. She didn't like being naked in public herself. To the prisoners, being photographed may have seemed an added dash of mortification, but to Harman, taking pictures was a way of deflecting her own humiliation in the transaction - by taking ownership of her position as spectator. ~ Philip Gourevitch

She was halfway through the book, her eyes heavy with sleep, when the bedroom door opened. Brishen stood at the threshold, dressed down to undertunic and trousers, his feet bare and his hair damp. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. "Woman of day, you waited for me."

Ildiko closed her book and offered him a drowsy smile. Relief and happiness coursed through her. "Prince of night, you've come back to me - your head intact."

"I promised I'd try." ~ Grace Draven