Once we fired the first shot, all of our choices…

“Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know. Nothing ever really attacks us except our own confusion. Perhaps…

— Pema Chödrön

“The dark might be dark, but at least we don’t have to look at ourselves when we’re standing in it.”

— Craig D. Lounsbrough

“Everyone needs to escape sometimes, and retreating into somebody else's fantasy isn't nearly as satisfying as slipping into your own.”

— Nenia Campbell

“We are marching in a compact group along a precipitous and difficult path, firmly holding each other by the hand. We are surrounded on…

— Vladimir Ilyich Lenin

“I wonder: instead of retreating and hiding, instead of pining for the way it was, what if I accept the way it is? This…

— Ann Kidd Taylor

If a band or artist isn't tweeting or writing posts on Facebook every day, there can be this kind of mystique built about them,…

— Washed Out

Every moment of one's existence one is growing into more or retreating into less.

— Anonymous

“American civilization isn’t advancing as fast as our military is. The only problem is we should be retreating.”

— Jarod Kintz

I think my hair is French. It's been retreating for years. . .

— Rick Sutter

Retreat, hell! We're not retreating, we're just advancing in a different direction.

— Oliver P. Smith

“It was enough to make me feel like retreating into some wooded or snowy clime, where only the most determined photographers or Mary-hunters might…

— Tara Altebrando

Snow pursued by the wind is not wholly unlike a retreating army. In the open field it ranges itself in ranks and battalions; where…

— Ambrose Bierce

“I found a note he'd left behind entitled 'Ciao': One just keeps saying, 'No...No...No...' Head bowed, hat in hand, A cringing, cunning little step…

— Mark Leyner

“We're not retreating." (Illyria) (Spike) "It's so much easier if you just tell yourself you're strategically heading in the opposite direction of those that…

— Brian Lynch

“You’re an English major, aren't you?” “Hey!” Immediately retreating, Keith swatted at him with a dishcloth. “Leave my brain alone. It’s resting.” “Sorry, sorry.”…

— Matthew Haldeman-Time