Fighter Attitude Quotes

Learning to let go is not giving up! It is simply passing the burden to a better fighter, so you can fight another day. (God)

It's the duty of every man to free himself. Never accept to live an underdog's life in god’s world.

What you think of me does not change who I am.

If you have strength of character, you can use that as fuel to not only be a survivor but to transcend simply being a survivor, use an internal alchemy to turn something rotten and horrible into gold.

they're good fighters, i think proudly as i watch them duke it out. But as the oldest male in the house, it's my duty to break it up. I grab the collar of Carlos's shirt but on Louis's leg and land on the floor with them. Before I can regain my balance, icy cold water is pored on my back. Turning quickly, I catch mi'ama dousing us all, a bucket poised in her fist abouve us while she is wearing her work uniform. She works as a checker for the local grocery store a couple blocks from our house. It doesn't pay a whole heck of a lot, but we don't need much. "Get up" she orders, her fiery attitude out in full force. "Shit, Ma" Carlos says, standing Mi'ama takes what's left in her bucket, sticks her fingers in the icy water, and flicks the liquid in Carlos's face. Luis laughs and before he knows it, he gets flicked with water as well. Will they ever learn? "Any More attitude, Lous?" She asks. "No, ma'am" Louis says, standing as straight as a soilder. "You have any more filthy words to come out of that boca of yours, Carlos?" She dips her hand in the water as a warning. "No, ma'am" echos soldier number two. "And what abot you, Alejandro?" her eyes narrow into slits as she focuses on me "What? I was try'in to break it up" I say innocently, giving her my you-can't-resist-me smile. She flicks water in my face. "That's for not breaking it up sooner. Now get dressed, all of you, and come eat breakfast before school." So much for my you-can't-resist-me smile

Every revolution starts with the aim to help the poor, but when the poor get it they forget who they were and become the new oppressors. The cycle goes on forever

Let no one ever intimidate you, you are standing on no one's ground. But again, some have claimed the earth as their own and usurped power from the rest of us. But they are usurpers; power belongs to every one of us. Seek it as much as possible. There is no shame in that. In fact it's a necessity. Either you have power or you are trampled to death in the stampede to get to the top

I'm a lover not a fighter. But when I have to fight, I fight to win. There cannot be another outcome.

No fighter is more divine than one who can achieve victory through defeat. In the instant when he receives the deadly wound, his opponent falls to the ground, himself struck a final blow. For he strikes love and is thus himself struck by love. And by letting itself be struck, love proves what had to be proven: that it is indeed love.

. . . there are two types of fighters, the former strike all over the place hoping one would land, the latter, assured of their prowess and capabilities, hit once and destroy the opponent's desire to continue the fight

Fighter pilot is an attitude. It is cockiness. It is aggressiveness. It is self-confidence. It is a streak of rebelliousness, and it is competitiveness. But there's something else - there's a spark. There's a desire to be good. To do well; in the eyes of your peers, and in your own mind.

You have to conquer every mountain to fulfill the dream.

A Martial Artist may become A professional fighter but not every Fighter is capable of becoming A martial artist. Martial Arts are about restoration of physical and spiritual balance and fluidity; they are about observing restraints and 'setting example'. Every practice session is A reminder of the play of opposites (yin and yang), . . . .

People think - Rebel, Adamant, Egoistic, Impractical, Proud My answer - Unconventional, Fighter, Uncompromising, Dreamer, God's Masterpiece Perception Matters

Please yourself. Taste is utterly subjective.

It is hard for a writer to call an editor great, because it is natural for him to think of the editor as a writer manqué. It is like asking a thief to approve a fence, or a fighter to speak highly of a manager. “Fighters are sincere,” a fellow with the old pug’s syndrome said to me at a bar once as head wobbled and the hand that held his shot glass shook. “Managers are pimps, they sell our blood.” In the newspaper trade, confirmed reporters think confirmed editors are mediocrities who took the easy way out. These attitudes mark an excess of vanity coupled with a lack of imagination; it never occurs to a writer that anybody could have wanted to be anything else.

Like a fighter pilot that goes full throttle, Like a bullet train that wants to lead, Like an inspiring game of spin the bottle, I desired creativity and its unique speed. Like a lady who walks with dignity and pride, Like a gentleman who stands by justice and truth, Like a loose cannon with a constructive attitude, I treasured the power of gratitude.

We marched him to the turfy shack where he lived with his parents and while the youth sulked Petronius Longus put the whole moral issue in succinct terms to them: Ollia’s father was a legionary veteran who had served in Egypt and Syria for over twenty years until he left with double pay, three medals, and a diploma that made Ollia legitimate; he now ran a boxers’ training school where he was famous for his high-minded attitude and his fighters were notorious for their loyalty to him… The old fisherman was a toothless, hapless, faithless cove you would not trust too near you with a filleting knife, but whether from fear or simple cunning he co-operated eagerly. The lad agreed to marry the girl and since Silvia would never abandon Ollia here, we decided that the fisherboy had to come back with us to Rome. His relations looked impressed by this result. We accepted it as the best we could achieve.

Under the influence of politicians, masses of people tend to ascribe the responsibility for wars to those who wield power at any given time. In World War I it was the munitions industrialists; in World War II it was the psychopathic generals who were said to be guilty. This is passing the buck. The responsibility for wars falls solely upon the shoulders of these same masses of people, for they have all the necessary means to avert war in their own hands. In part by their apathy, in part by their passivity, and in part actively, these same masses of people make possible the catastrophes under which they themselves suffer more than anyone else. To stress this guilt on the part of masses of people, to hold them solely responsible, means to take them seriously. On the other hand, to commiserate masses of people as victims, means to treat them as small, helpless children. The former is the attitude held by the genuine freedom-fighters; the latter the attitude held by the power-thirsty politicians.

I don’t mind failing because that means I’m trying. But giving up, now that’s something that I’m just not willing to do. I will continue to try and try again. I will keep my peace, stay focused, and know that my time will come. My positive attitude will not depart me. I will hold it close and keep on striving, knowing that what’s meant for me, will be. Nothing and nobody can stop it! My dedication and hard work won’t fail me, but most importantly, I won’t fail myself. I’m a winner and I’m a fighter! I don’t allow challenges to stop me.

Flying fighters is simply an assignment, but being a fighter pilot isn’t. Being a fighter pilot is a state-of-mind. It’s an attitude toward your job, toward the mission, toward the way you live your life. You don’t have to fly fighters to be a fighter pilot. You’ve simply got to have the attitude. There are fighter pilots driving B-52s and fighter pilots hauling trash. They may not have the flash and glamour, but they are the best they can possibly be at the job they’ve got to do. There are pilots who fly fighters and there are fighter pilots. You guys want to be fighter pilots, not pilots flying fighters. Look for the difference.” This is profound stuff for the Korat bar. It makes sense to me. I’ve thought a lot about

The family were wild," she said suddenly. "They tried to marry me off. And then when I'd begun to feel that after all life was scarcely worth living I found something"—her eyes went skyward exultantly—"I found something!" Carlyle waited and her words came with a rush. “Courage—just that; courage as a rule of life, and something to cling to always. I began to build up this enormous faith in myself. I began to see that in all my idols in the past some manifestation of courage had unconsciously been the thing that attracted me. I began separating courage from the other things of life. All sorts of courage—the beaten, bloody prize-fighter coming up for more—I used to make men take me to prize-fights; the déclassé woman sailing through a nest of cats and looking at them as if they were mud under her feet; the liking what you like always; the utter disregard for other people's opinions—just to live as I liked always and to die in my own way—Did you bring up the cigarettes?" He handed one over and held a match for her silently. "Still," Ardita continued, "the men kept gathering—old men and young men, my mental and physical inferiors, most of them, but all intensely desiring to have me—to own this rather magnificent proud tradition I'd built up round me. Do you see?" "Sort of. You never were beaten and you never apologized." "Never!" She sprang to the edge, poised or a moment like a crucified figure against the sky; then describing a dark parabola plunked without a slash between two silver ripples twenty feet below. Her voice floated up to him again. "And courage to me meant ploughing through that dull gray mist that comes down on life—not only over-riding people and circumstances but over-riding the bleakness of living. A sort of insistence on the value of life and the worth of transient things." She was climbing up now, and at her last words her head, with the damp yellow hair slicked symmetrically back, appeared on his level. "All very well," objected Carlyle. "You can call it courage, but your courage is really built, after all, on a pride of birth. You were bred to that defiant attitude. On my gray days even courage is one of the things that's gray and lifeless." She was sitting near the edge, hugging her knees and gazing abstractedly at the white moon; he was farther back, crammed like a grotesque god into a niche in the rock. "I don't want to sound like Pollyanna," she began, "but you haven't grasped me yet. My courage is faith—faith in the eternal resilience of me—that joy'll come back, and hope and spontaneity. And I feel that till it does I've got to keep my lips shut and my chin high, and my eyes wide—not necessarily any silly smiling. Oh, I've been through hell without a whine quite often—and the female hell is deadlier than the male." "But supposing," suggested Carlyle, "that before joy and hope and all that came back the curtain was drawn on you for good?" Ardita rose, and going to the wall climbed with some difficulty to the next ledge, another ten or fifteen feet above. "Why," she called back, "then I'd have won!

There are no more privileges by birth certificate, none by former positions in life, none by so-called origin, none by so-called education in former times. There is only one criterion: the criterion of the brave, valiant, loyal man, the determined fighter, the daring man who is fit to be a leader of his Volk. Truly, the collapse of an old world has been brought about. From this war arises a blood-fortified Volksgemeinschaft, a stronger one than that we National Socialists were able to convey to the nation after the World War through our avowal of faith. And this will perhaps be the greatest blessing for our Volk in the future: that we will emerge from this war improved in our community, cleansed of many prejudices, that this war will prove all the more how correct the party program of our movement was, how correct our whole National Socialist attitude is. For there is one thing which is certain: no bourgeois state will survive this war. Sooner or later, everybody has to put his cards on the table here. Only he who manages to forge his people into a unity not only as a state but also as a society will emerge as the victor from this war. That we National Socialists laid the foundations a long time ago, we and I owe to our experiences in the first war. That the Greater German Reich must now fight a second war-to this our movement will owe the reinforcement and additional depth of its program in the future. May all those be assured of this who perhaps still believe that maybe one day they will be able to witness the new rosy dawn of their class world through empty talk and faultfinding. These gentlemen will pitifully suffer shipwreck. World history will push them aside, as though they had never existed. Returning from the Great War as a soldier, I once explained this Weltanschauung to the German Volk and created the foundations for the party. Do you believe that any German could offer the soldiers, who today are coming home victorious from the war, anything less than a National Socialist Germany-in the sense of the true fulfillment of our ideas of a true Volksgemeinschaft? That is impossible! And this will surely be the most beneficial blessing of this war in the future. Speech in the Sportpalast Berlin, September 30, 1942

Folks who are hell bent on having an angry God have difficulty swallowing the idea that God doesn’t want to destroy sinners. Another proof text for them would be Romans 5:9, “Having now been justified by His blood, we will be saved through Him from the wrath. …” “But that still does not mean that Christ’s death propitiated God,” continue the authors. “For Paul the wrath of God is God’s judgment which destroys all unholiness and sin. In the light of the threatening wrath of God, the need of sinners can be said not to be the transformation of God’s attitude toward them but the transformation of their sinful existence before God.” This accurate understanding that God’s wrath is against sinfulness and not sinners, helps us to get a clearer picture of what is going on. It is more like a doctor fighting a patient’s disease, or a freedom fighter liberating slaves from bondage. That God’s wrath is redemptively aimed against sinfulness itself finds solid Biblical support. “The wrath of God is revealed from Heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness” (Rom. 1:18).

Butterfly 44 since that day in northern Laos. Even though he flies a Pilatus Porter, that FAC clearly fills Wimpy’s definition of a fighter pilot. More important, Wimpy’s definition explains a lot about the people I see around me. It explains my own experience at Korat. When I arrived, I was, without doubt, a pilot who flew fighters. I was qualified in the aircraft, but it would have been hard to fit the description of fighter pilot that we’re talking about. I wasn’t sure whether I was a fighter pilot yet. I looked around the table and saw a group of people who all flew fighters but who weren’t all fighter pilots. Some were, some would be, and some might never make the cut. The guys from McConnell when I first arrived at Korat hadn’t been fighter pilots. Oh sure, some were, but most were pilots who flew fighters. It didn’t matter that they had been flying fighters for a longer time than most; they didn’t have the attitude that Wimpy was describing. The guys who had come from Europe and Nellis seemed to

A superior fighter pilot is made up of one part skill, one part attitude, one part aggression, and one part madness.

culture’ refers to the patterns of meanings and beliefs expressed in symbols and actions, by which people communicate, perpetuate, and develop their knowledge about and attitudes toward life.

It must be appreciated that Nazi Germany in 1939 was not the place to be a nonconformist. There was no freedom of speech, much music (including American jazz) was banned, and undesirable people often just disappeared. Marseille simply didn't care. He drank, which was a serious offense, and fast became one o f the most infamous womanizers in the Luftwaffe. He was in trouble so often that, according to one of his friends, "it was a noteworthy occasion when he was not on restriction."........... ......Restricted to his quarters, he didn't take that to include the town, so he borrowed (stole) his commander's car and went barhopping. Coming back drunk with two French girls certainly did not endear him to his new commander, Johannes Steinhoff. One could forgive his utter lack of military bearing and even his rebelliousness up to a point, but no his seeming disregard for his fellow pilots. But in studying the man, I don't think that was truly his attitude. He was a warrior and a loner. The cold fact was that he really didn't need anyone's help in the air and was better alone.

Do what it takes to make what you want.

Life isn't fair and nobody owes you anything, so you better get your ass out there and throw caution and expectations to the wind, live with joy and abandon, be bad, be good, and dance as hard as you can.

When no one has paved the way before you, trampled the path you want to travel, there is nothing to it but to do it yourself.

The best defense in fighting is an aggressive defense. Each defensive move must be accompanied by a counter-punch or be followed immediately by a counterpunch. And you cannot counter properly if you do not know how to punch. That does not mean that "a strong offense is the best defense." That overworked quotation may apply to other activities; but it does not apply to fighting. It does not apply when you're pitted against an experienced opponent. You may have the best attack in the world; but if you're an open target-if you're a "clay pigeon"-you'll likely get licked by the first experienced scrapper you tackle. YOU MUST HAVE A GOOD DEFENSE TO BE A WELL-ROUNDED FIGHTER. AND THE BEST DEFENSE IS AN AGGRESSIVE DEFENSE. Another reason for teaching punch first was this: You learned how to throw every important punch without having an opponent attempt to strike you. I'm convinced that it's wrong to try to teach beginners punching moves and defensive moves at the same time. Most humans cannot have two attitudes toward one subject at one time. And a beginner can't have two attitudes toward fighting. If you take any ten beginners and attempt to teach them punching and defense simultaneously, more than half of them will concentrate on defense instead of punching. That's a natural inclination, for it's only human that a fellow doesn't like to get hit in the face-or in the body either, for that matter. It follows that more than half the beginners will consider it more important to protect their own noses than to concentrate on learning how to belt the other guy in the nose. They'll develop "defense complexes" that will stick with them. Fellows with defense complexes rarely develop into good punchers. Even when they are shown how to hit correctly, they sprout bad punching habits while concentrating on blocking, parrying, back-pedaling and the like. They "pull" their punches; they side-step while trying to throw straight smashes; they move in with "clutching" fists that seek to encircle their opponents for clinches; and they do much showy but purposeless footwork. The little thought-ditch that is dug in the beginning will become the big channel for later fistic reactions. You're lucky. You're starting with the mental accent on punch. And it's a 100-to-1 shot that your attitude will not change. It's true that you haven't punched yet at a live target-at another fellow. Don't worry; there's plenty of time for that. And when you do start tossing at a live target, you'll know exactly how to toss. That exact knowledge will help you to become accurate and precise, as well as explosive, against a moving target.

Life shakes you up when series of misfortune erupts but what really matters is how you rebuild yourself and shake up your life.

It’s hard to tell. Who is alive? Who is dead? We all look same here. We all are stung, harshly stung by life. However, we’ve to survive and we’ll survive.

I didn’t want to hurt her, even though I was mad at her for her attitude toward me. Unfortunately, when I handed her one of the quarterstaffs, she smiled and twisted it around expertly, as if she had used one all her life. I grimaced, hearing the swish of air as it cut close to me. I, in turn, tried to twizzle my staff but felt like a conductor of an orchestra, not a deadly fighter.

The reason behind Israel’s engagement with Lebanon was justified at the time as based on national security grounds, with other nations admiring the Jewish state’s actions and wanting to learn from them, but there was something more existential at work. In his 1998 book on the Middle East, From Beirut to Jerusalem, the New York Times journalist Thomas Friedman gave an anecdote from 1982 about the real, less acknowledged mission of Israeli forces: Two targets in particular seemed to interest [Ariel] Sharon’s army. One was the PLO Research Center. There were no guns at the PLO Research Center, no ammunition and no fighters. But there was something more dangerous—books about Palestine, old records and land deeds belonging to Palestinian families, photographs about Arab life in Palestine, historical archives about the Arab life in Palestine and, most important, maps—maps of pre-1948 Palestine with every Arab village on it before the state of Israel came into being and erased many of them. The Research Center was like an ark containing the Palestinians’ heritage—some of their credentials as a nation. In a certain sense, this is what Sharon most wanted to take home from Beirut. You could read it in the graffiti the Israeli boys left behind on the Research Center walls: [/block]Palestinians? What’s that?[block] And [/block]Palestinians, fuck you[block], and [/block]Arafat, I will hump your mother[block]. (The PLO later forced Israel to return the entire archive as part of a November 1983 prisoner exchange.)56 It is not hard to see why this attitude was and remains so appealing to some governments. It is a desire to militarily destroy an opponent but also erase its history and ability to remember what has been lost. When surveillance technology is added to the mix, tested on unwilling subjects, it’s even harder to successfully resist.

I tell them the first time they’re going to fight, the night before they probably won’t sleep. I can’t offer them any consolidation other than the fact that the other guy went through the same thing, and when they get down to the fight and enter the dressing-room, especially if they’re in an amateur fight, the room is full of possible opponents, because they don’t know who they’re going to fight, and everybody looks calm, confident and smiling and all the new boy is aware of is that terrible thump in his chest, and he’s intimidated by their attitude and their confidence. What he doesn’t realize is that they look at him and they see the same thing in him as he sees in them, because by an exercise of discipline he also puts on a superficial appearance of confidence…We go on now into the ring. Half the time they’re walking when they go down to the ring as though they’re going to the gallows. So when they climb those stairs, I never call a fighter yellow. Knowing what he goes through, the very act of climbing into that ring stamps him a person of courage and discipline. When two men step into the ring, one and only one deserves to win. When you step into the ring, you gotta know you deserve to win. You gotta know destiny owes you victory , cause you trained harder than your opponent. You sparred harder. You ran farther.

I'm not surprised motherfuckers

I never let anyone see me cry or feel sorry for myself. Attitude and the will to live is so important during and after treatment that if you don't have a good attitude or a strong will to live, treatment doesn't work.

Instead of surrendering, fight your fear head-on, even the fear fears the fearsome attitude of a fighter unaware of the giving-up option.

The attitude of city-state Greeks to this sub-Homeric enclave was one of genial and sophisticated contempt. They regarded Macedonians in general as semi-savages, uncouth of speech and dialect, retrograde in their political institutions, negligible as fighters, and habitual oath-breakers, who dressed in bear-pelts and were much given to deep and swinish potations, tempered with regular bouts of assassination and incest. In a more benevolent mood, Athenians would watch the attempts of the Argead court to Hellenize itself with the patronizing indulgence of some blue-blooded duke called upon to entertain a colonial sugar-baron.