She's no child. She's tougher than you'll ever be. Do you know the kind of polish that doesn't take scratches? That's Phuong. She can survive a, dozen of us. She'll get old, that's all. She'll suffer from childbirth and hunger and cold and rheumatism, but she'll never suffer like we do from thoughts, obsessions-she won't scratch, she'll only decay.
They were conquerors, and for that you want only brute force — nothing to boast of, when you have it, since your strength is just an accident arising from the weakness of others.
She thought that she had never before had a chance to realize the strength that human beings have, to endure.
Strength cannot always roar, she said that day. Valor does not always shine.
The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.
I feel strongly about childhood, truth or lies, and the real expression of feeling.