A Quote by Mattie Stepanek

Remember to play after every storm. — © Mattie Stepanek
Remember to play after every storm.
And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.
After winter comes the summer. After night comes the dawn. And after every storm, there comes clear, open skies.
I had a certain level of patience, but sometimes weathering the storm is a patient process. Every storm don't pass fast. Every storm, it can be passing, but it can be getting stronger and stronger or it could be coming down hard.
After every storm the sun will smile; for every problem there is a solution, and the soul's indefeasible duty is to be of good cheer.
I would not live alway; I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way.
After every storm, there comes clear open skies.
After every storm, if you look hard enough, a rainbow appears.
I demand that every Storm Troop Leader, just as every political leader, should be conscious of the fact that his behavior and conduct must be exemplary. . . . I wish every mother to give her son to The Party without fearing that he may be ruined morally. . . . Storm Troop Leaders who behave unworthily in public are to be mercilessly removed.
I think every actor wants to play those big parts. In the very first play I ever did, I remember understanding all the characters in it. I always felt I could play anyone.
It was an extremely overdramatic play called 'Wild Decembers'. It was all about the Brontes, and they all, one after the other, died of tuberculosis. I remember taking every opportunity to cough over other people's lines.
'Did our parents really let us do that?' is a game my friends and I sometimes play. We remember taking off on bikes alone, playing in the woods for hours, crawling through storm drains to follow creek beds.
The outer storm ceases the moment the inner storm ends, for they are the same storm.
The wise man in the storm prays God not for safety from danger but for deliverance from fear. It is the storm within which endangers him[,] not the storm without.
Fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step.
I remember my second year, in the playoff game in Dallas, I remember every play that happened. I remembered giving up a back-shoulder fade in the end zone, scoring.
I'd never seen my father stand up. As far as I can remember, my father was always in a wheelchair. I always remembered that. And I remember my first basketball game, ever, he rolls into the gym, he stays by the door and he watches me play. And that was the only game he ever saw me play because he passed away shortly after that.
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