The courage to live brings its own rewards.

No matter what, I would never let the people who wanted me to break see how much damage they had inflicted.

We’re survivors. There’s nothing we can’t do.

I know it is difficult to believe in your own courage or fortitude when everything inside of you feels weak and shattered. But do not believe what you feel. You will not be easily broken.

And when hope returns to us, it will be with a passion and power to match every ounce of this crushing despair and pain, every fiery shred of determination that carried us when hope failed. It will claim us with a courage that will make the goddess herself quake and doubt herself.

There is never a guarantee of survival, no matter your strength or skill or wit. There is only the day you are conceived and the day you die, and all else is a series of moments you either embrace or endure.

We will not die cornered and cowering in the ruins of a dead city.

All of my stubborn thoughts of dying with dignity melted away. Dignity was for the weak—I was full of fury.

I won’t lose hope. I won’t be broken.