never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never-in nothing, great or small, large or petty - never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.
- October 29, 1941

But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, "This was their finest hour."
June 18, 1940

Both of these are quotes, probably two of my favorites from Winston Churchill....

Churchill wasn't having an easy time of it. He hadn't exactly been a startling sucess before he became the prime minister of England, and he certainly wasn't having fun watching his country be bombed to bits on his watch. He wasn't handsome and he wasn't popular. He looked like a bulldog, and kind of walked like one too. He also wasn't one of those optomists who refuse to acknowlege that anything is wrong. The "our finest hour" speech was given in response to some terrible milatary failures. What he had, and what I so much admire, an ability to look around and see, for sure, how bad it was without letting that affect him. It wasn't that he thought that everything was going to somehow magically be all right. It was that he knew exactly how horrible everything would be if it couldn't be turned around: and since that other world, where Britain fell and Nazism spread, was so horrible to him by the sheer force of his words and his will power he made himself and other people look for the light and keep on trying to go towards it. He convinced himself first, and then convinced other people, because he spoke with great conviction. He made people believe he was seeing something that they couldn't, and so they believed in his words and tried.

I don't think he could see his way clear of much of anything. I think he basically knew how to put one foot in front of the other and solve one problem at a time. June of 1940 could only possibly look like Britain's finest hour to somebody who really, honestly and truly WOULD never, never, never give up. I don't think he thought that the odds were in his nation's favor. I think he just knew that, if ya quit fighting, you lose all hope. That's what I want so much: to be able to look around in a situation that is really kind of wrecked, but believe that it's still worth it to fight. That the fight itself would be worthwhile, even if I wasn't one of the ones who beat the odds.

So I'm shaking off my malaise, taking another hit of my inhaler...and I shall fight on the sofa, with the kleenex, and the dog hair ( triple bonus points to anybody who can name the speech I'm parodying) ...and I know nobody will ever see me as great, but maybe Winston Pepperoni will say, "She's having a darn fine hour."