I do believe in the old saying, 'What does not kill you makes

Hear the words of Angelina Jolie, who herself has walked through valleys of trial and ascended peaks of triumph: “I do believe in the old saying, ‘What does not kill you makes you stronger.’ Our experiences, good and bad, make us who we are. By overcoming difficulties, we gain strength and maturity.” In this utterance she joins her voice to an ancient chorus, for the saying originates from the philosopher Nietzsche, who declared that suffering, endured and overcome, is not destruction but transformation. The fire that burns the dross also tempers the steel.

Strength is not born of ease. The child wrapped always in comfort grows weak in spirit, but the one who struggles, who tastes both loss and hardship, learns endurance. Jolie reminds us that both good and bad experiences are our teachers. Joy teaches us gratitude, but sorrow teaches us resilience. Success fills us with confidence, but failure humbles and deepens us. Together, they shape the whole of who we are, just as storms and sunshine together shape the landscape.

The ancients saw this truth in myth and history alike. Consider Hercules, whose labors were many and cruel. Each trial was meant to destroy him, yet each also made him stronger, more cunning, more heroic. By enduring the impossible, he became not less but greater. Likewise, the Spartans of old were forged in hardship. Their boys were taken from comfort, trained in hunger, pain, and endurance. What did not break them made them warriors feared by the world. Strength is the fruit of difficulty.

History offers us further testimony. Abraham Lincoln knew repeated defeat before he rose to lead a nation. He failed in business, lost elections, and buried children. Each sorrow could have shattered him, but instead, they became his forge. By enduring grief, he gained compassion. By facing loss, he gained patience. By walking through failure, he gained resolve. When the Civil War came, it was not an untested man who led, but one tempered by hardship into greatness.

Yet we must remember: to be made stronger by pain is not automatic. Some are broken by sorrow, consumed by bitterness, destroyed by despair. The difference lies in the choice of the soul. Those who meet adversity with courage, who seek meaning within the trial, emerge strengthened. Those who surrender to resentment remain weakened. Thus, Jolie’s words are not only description but exhortation: we must choose to let difficulty make us mature, rather than let it devour us.

The lesson, O seeker, is this: do not despise your hardships. Do not curse the storms of your life, for they are the very crucible in which your spirit is tested. What wounds you today may, if endured, become the source of your wisdom tomorrow. Embrace both joy and sorrow as teachers, for together they make you whole. Remember always: what does not kill you can make you stronger—if you allow it.

Practical steps are these: when you face adversity, pause and ask, “What can this teach me? How may I be strengthened by this?” Record the lessons of your trials, so that they do not pass in vain. Support others in their hardships, for by helping them rise, you rise as well. And each time you overcome, give thanks not only for your survival, but for the growth that suffering has carved into your soul.

Thus remember Jolie’s wisdom, rooted in the ancient words of Nietzsche: our experiences, good and bad, make us who we are. Let no trial be wasted. Let no sorrow pass without gaining wisdom from it. For every difficulty endured is a stone added to the fortress of your spirit, and every hardship overcome is proof that you are stronger, wiser, and more unshakable than before.