As a girl my temper often got out of bounds. But one day when I became angry at a friend over some trivial matter, my mother said to me, Elizabeth, anyone who angers you conquers you.
It’s better to be a lion for a day than a sheep all your life.
He who angers you conquers you.
Panic plays no part in the training of a nurse.
O sleep, O gentle sleep, I thought gratefully, Nature’s gentle nurse.
Some minds remain open long enough for the truth not only to enter but to pass on through by way of a ready exit without pausing anywhere along the route.
My mother used to say, ‘He who angers you, conquers you!’ But my mother was a saint.
I was wholly unprepared for the extraordinary attitude of the medical world in its readiness to condemn anything that smacked of reform or that ran contrary to approved methods of practice.
I’d like to live every moment of my life, but not a moment after.
It is easier to recount grievances and slights than it is to set down a broad redress of such grievances and slights. The reason is that one fears to be thought of as an arrant braggart.
A measure of victory has been won, and honors have been bestowed in token thereof. But honours fade or are forgotten, and monuments crumble into dust. It is the battle itself that matters – and the battle must go on.
Fortunately, perhaps, I was completely ignorant of the orthodox theory of the disease polio-myelitis.
The record of one’s life must needs prove more interesting to him who writes it than to him who reads what has been written.
His response was remarkable for its irrelevance, if for nothing else.