You can't become a winner overnight, or even in a couple of years-it takes time. . . You will lose races and you will have to accept that, learn from it and believe that you'll win the next one, knowing that you'll probably lose that as well. All the time you have to keep believing that one day you will win.
I had grown up. I had learned that being a woman was knowing when to stand firm and when to compromise. I had learned to laugh and weep; I had learned that I was weak as well as strong. I had learned to love. I was no longer a rigid, upright tree that would not flex and bow, even though the gale threatened to snap it in two; I was the willow that bends and shivers and sways, and yet remains strong.
When things fall apart, the children of the land scurry and scatter like birds escaping a burning sky. . . . They will never be the same again because you cannot be the same once you leave behind who and what you are, you just cannot be the same. . . . Look at them leaving in droves, despite knowing they will be welcomed with restraint in those strange lands because they do not belong
History is for human self-knowledge. Knowing yourself means knowing, first, what it is to be a person; secondly, knowing what it is to be the kind of person you are; and thirdly, knowing what it is to be the person you are and nobody else is. Knowing yourself means knowing what you can do; and since nobody knows what they can do until they try, the only clue to what man can do is what man has done. The value of history, then, is that it teaches us what man has done and thus what man is.
One of the problems with the kill-or-capture metric is that it has often been to the exclusion of having a deeper, richer understanding of the movement, its origins, and our adversaries' mindset. The nuances are absolutely critical. Our adversaries are wedded to the ideology that informs and fuels their struggle, and, by not paying attention, we risk not knowing our enemy.