Rebuilt Yourself Quotes

Mistakes can be fixed. Bad decisions can be undone. Model houses can be rebuilt. And perfection is only a word that makes you feel bad about yourself.

There is no quick fix-all procedure to heal your insecurities. Like any relationship, the relationship with yourself must be built and re-built one kind, loving conversation at a time.

You can be both broken and rebuilt. You can endure trauma and in the midst of pain discover strength. Your wounds have not defined you; it is you who have re-created yourself despite them.

The hardest thing to see is yourself.

In the years since those experiences, most every cell in your body—every atom—has been replaced and renewed. You have rebuilt yourself, both physically and mentally. You do not need to carry the guilt of prior incarnations.

In the end, you can't have morals or patriotism on an empty stomach. If you're too busy looking after yourself, you can't afford to look after others.

Only once one is clothed and fed does one learn manners.’ In the end, you can’t have morals or patriotism on an empty stomach. If you’re too busy looking after yourself, you can’t afford to look after others.

Granted, back in your mother's day, the bank queues in Duncashel moved fierce slow, but every five or six steps you got to one of the pillars lining the route for a bit of a lean. Then there'd be a pile-up forming behind you, until you pushed yourself away again, freeing it up for the next man. Magnificent building, you wouldn't remember it. They had it knocked down and rebuilt by the time you toddled along. Thick doors that required your whole weight to open them. High ceilings and red-flecked marble counters. I'd have taken that over a church any day.

Girls don’t learn the difference between personal victory and team victory or personal loss and team loss. Girls learned that if you don’t do it yourself, it doesn’t get done. Girls were never asked to fight the war in Vietnam or any other war. But if they had been, girls would have won. Girls would have felt guilty for not winning it sooner, and girls would have restored all of the roads, rebuilt all of the bombed homes, adopted all of the orphans, established daycare centers, domestic violence shelters and homeless shelters, and girls would have processed endlessly about what we could have done to have prevented the war and what we still can do to prevent it from ever happening again. Because girls believe, in the end, everything that happens is our own personal fault.

The Three Times You Rebuilt Your House-shaped Heart The first time your house-shaped heart is wrecked you are too young to realise love can be a wolf.   They call it puppy love but there is something deeply violent in this, too violent to be that innocent.   Slowly, you rebuild it. With confidence you make it out of straw, sturdier than no protection.   And again, it is wrecked. Huffed and puffed into nothingness by this dangerous thing no one wants to call a wolf.   Again, you collect from the wreckage, promise yourself stronger, make a wooden shelter. But even this proves futile, for the dark thing that relishes destroying your soft, wanting heart.   It takes you so much longer to feel and trust again, you build walls made of brick. You think, Not this time.   This time it will not find a way to destroy me, I have built stronger walls than it can possibly handle. Still the wolf comes. Still the house-heart, sturdy as you make it, finds a way to crumble.

DEAR YOUNG DEMIGOD, Your destiny awaits. Now that you have discovered your true parentage, you must prepare yourself for a difficult future—fighting monsters, adventuring across the world, and dealing with temperamental Greek and Roman gods. I don’t envy you. I hope this volume will help you on your journeys. I had to think long and hard before publishing these stories, as they were given to me in the strictest confidence. However, your survival comes first, and this book will give you an inside look at the world of demigods—information that may help keep you alive. We’ll begin with “The Diary of Luke Castellan.” Over the years, many readers and campers at Camp Half-Blood have asked me to tell the story of Luke’s early days, adventuring with Thalia and Annabeth before they arrived at camp. I have been reluctant to do this, as neither Annabeth nor Thalia likes to talk about those times. The only information I have is recorded in Luke’s own handwriting, in his original diary given to me by Chiron. I think it’s time, though, to share a little of Luke’s story. It may help us understand what went wrong for such a promising young demigod. In this excerpt you will find out how Thalia and Luke arrived in Richmond, Virginia, chasing a magic goat, how they were almost destroyed in a house of horrors, and how they met a young girl named Annabeth. I have also included a map of Halcyon Green’s house in Richmond. Despite the damage described in the story, the house has been rebuilt, which is very troubling. If you go there, be careful. It may still contain treasures. But it most assuredly contains monsters and traps as well. Our second story will definitely get me in trouble with Hermes. “Percy Jackson and the Staff of Hermes” describes an embarrassing incident for the god of travelers, which he hoped to solve quietly with

You have grown a backbone where your wishbone used to be. You have learned how to say no, you have learned how to walk away. Do you remember when they broke you? It felt like life as you knew it was over. It felt like your rib cage cracked apart. You have rebuilt yourself; you have stitched loss into gain, sadness into joy.

The historian, Josephus, explains how Cyrus arrived at this decision. In the first year of Cyrus’s reign, Daniel showed Cyrus the writings of Isaiah, addressing Cyrus by name. Written 120 years earlier, the prophecy is remarkable in its details, right down to Cyrus’s entering Babylon by drying up and crossing the Euphrates river. Isaiah even added a description of the famed “double doors” at the entrance of Babylon. The majestic entrance to the city was a massive double gate, flanked with bright towers of blue enameled brick. The prophecy was even more remarkable in light of the fact that at the time of Isaiah, Babylon did not have these doors and was not yet a world power. Neither did the majestic temple of Solomon and the city of Jerusalem need to be rebuilt. Put yourself in the seat of Cyrus, and imagine reading a letter from God written to you by name 120 years before you were born.

This whole book has been leading up to this point. Vulnerability, the key to passion, requires all the things we’ve talked about. You cannot embrace passionate vulnerability if you cannot trust your spouse. You cannot be vulnerable if you cannot be yourself (and you cannot be yourself if you’re motivated by fear of your spouse having an affair or losing their love for you). You cannot be vulnerable if you’re full of shame for your past. You cannot be vulnerable if trust has been broken and hasn’t been rebuilt.

I was spun into gold ropes, silk petals and rebuilt in it I found more of Him in it And me in it. The wilderness Is home

We could talk about it.” “Talk about what?” “Why you look like someone shot your dog. Shelby, I assume.” “Nah,” Luke said, taking a drink. “That’s not serious.” “I guess that has nothing to do with your sleeplessness or your mood then. Trouble with the cabins? The town? Your tenant/helper?” “Aiden, there’s nothing bothering me, except maybe that I’ve been working my ass off for three months getting a house and six cabins rebuilt and furnished.” Aiden took a sip of his drink. “Twenty-five, so Sean and Mom say. And gorgeous.” “Sean’s an idiot who can’t mind his own business. She’s just a girl.” “She’s just a girl who has you looking a little uptight.” “Thanks,” he said, standing. “You don’t look that great yourself—I’m going to bed.” He threw back the rest of his drink. “Nah, don’t,” Aiden said. “Fix another one. Give me ten minutes, huh? I can just ask a couple of questions, right? I’m not like Sean, I’m not going to get up your ass about this. But you haven’t talked about it much and I’m a little curious.” Luke thought about that for a second and against his better judgment, he went into the kitchen and poured himself a short shot. He went back and sat down, leaning his elbows on his knees. “What?” he asked abruptly. Aiden chuckled. “Okay. Relax. Just a girl? Not serious?” “That’s right. A town girl, sort of. She’s visiting her family and she’ll be leaving pretty soon.” “Ah—I didn’t know that. I guess I thought she lived there.” “Long visit,” Luke said. “Her mother died last spring. She’s spending a few months with her uncle until she gets on with things—like where she wants to live. College and travel and stuff. This is temporary, that’s all.” “But—if you felt serious, there isn’t any reason you wouldn’t let it…you know…evolve…?” “I don’t feel serious,” he said, his mouth in a firm line. “Okay, I get that. Does she? Feel serious?” “She has plans. I didn’t trap her, Aiden. I made sure she knew—I’m not interested in being a family man. I told her she could do better, I’m just not built that way. But when I’m with a woman, I know how to treat her right. If she needed something permanent, she was in the wrong place. That’s how it is.” “Never?” “What do you mean, never? No one in this family is interested in that.” “Bullshit. I am. Sean says he’s having too much fun, but the truth is he has the attention span of a cabbage. But me? I’d like a wife, a family.” “Didn’t you already try that once?” Luke asked, sitting back in his chair, relaxing a little bit since the attention had shifted to Aiden’s life. “Oh, yeah—I tried hard. Next time I try, I’m going to see if I can find a woman who’s not certifiable and off her meds.” He grinned. “Really, that’s what happens when you ignore all the symptoms because she’s such a friggin’ miracle in bed, it causes brain damage.” He shrugged. “I’m on the lookout for that.” Luke grinned. “She was hot.” “Oh, yeah.” “She was worse than nuts.” “Nightmare nuts,” Aiden agreed.

You cannot embrace passionate vulnerability if you cannot trust your spouse. You cannot be vulnerable if you cannot be yourself (and you cannot be yourself if you’re motivated by fear of your spouse having an affair or losing their love for you). You cannot be vulnerable if you’re full of shame for your past. You cannot be vulnerable if trust has been broken and hasn’t been rebuilt. You cannot force passion. Passion flows from the ability to be vulnerable, which flows from the ability to trust, which flows from a safe relationship.

There was a time I looked in the mirror and saw a stranger. I had walked through the fire of alcohol addiction. I had sat in the silence of depression. I had tasted the sharp loneliness that hides behind a smile. And yet — I did not give up. We endure pain — and that pain becomes our teacher. They say a Guru is not one who speaks from books, but one who has lived what they teach. Who has stumbled through the dark, and still chooses the path to light. Today, as a coach, I don’t offer perfection. I offer presence. I offer truth. I offer the strength that comes from having broken and rebuilt. If you’re walking through something heavy, I hope this reminds you: You are not broken. You are becoming. And your story isn’t over.

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Sometimes it takes being broken to realize you were meant to be rebuilt stronger — not the same, but more aware, more alive.