How could I recognize, even at the last possible moment, that there was something left to fight for and then walk away when my highest ideal is to fight for the people I love? Especially when I finally felt I could match conviction with courage, intent with action?
My face set to a grim and determined expression. I speak in all modesty as I say this, but I discovered at that moment that I have a fierce will to live. It's not something evident, in my experience. Some of us give up on life with only a resigned sigh. Others fight a little, then lose hope. Still others--and I am one of those-- never give up. We fight and fight and fight. We fight no matter the cost of battle, the losses we take, the improbability of success. We fight to the very end. It's not a question of courage. It's something constitutional, an inability to let go. It maybe nothing more than life-hungry stupidity.
Aye. Fight and you may die. Run, and you'll live. At least awhile... And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance -- just one chance -- to come back here and tell our enemies that they make take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!!
Source: William Wallace played by Mel Gibson in the movie Braveheart