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Have you ever heard the saying, “quitters never win and winners never quit”?

Do you think it’s true? Do you ever think quitting can be the right — or even the healthiest — thing to do? Is giving up always a bad thing?

In “I Quit: 21 Stories of People Who Walked Away,” The Times shares personal stories of people who have quit their jobs, their religion, their relationships and more. Anya Strzemien writes in the overview:

Is there a more exciting and complicated phrase than “I quit”? It can feel exhilarating to the person saying it, crushing to the person hearing it and envy inducing to those learning of it (who hasn’t been following Harry and Meghan’s royal departure obsessively?). Quitting can be an impulsive act or a tortured decision. But if there’s a common thread in these personal stories, it’s this: Very few people quit without good reason, and even fewer go back — unless they played drums for the Black Crowes.

Here are excerpts from three of those stories:

In “I Quit New York,” Cameron Carling explains why he left the big city to pursue a dream life in Costa Rica.

I moved to New York in 2007 from Los Angeles, where I had been living after college at U.C.L.A. You show up in New York for a week in September, and you’re like, This is the most magical goddamned place on the planet. This is where all of the things are happening in the world.

I had no job, and figured that New York would just provide for me, and it nearly didn’t. I was on the verge of running out of borrowed money when I landed a job at a huge tech company via a temp agency. That turned into a full-time gig, and I ended up working there for 11 years.

I met my wife, Marcella, two weeks after I arrived, at a party. New York was awesome as a couple with no kids. We would go to outdoor movies in Bryant Park, see the symphony in Central Park.

But after a decade or so, I started to burn out. Part of it was that my wife and I had two kids and we were living in an 1,100-square-foot apartment in Brooklyn. It’s a common refrain, but trying to raise a kid in New York is like growing an oak tree in a thimble.

Also, I’m originally from Utah, and wanted to be closer to nature, but in New York it’s hard to find a tree that’s not growing out of cement. One day I was out on a terrace at work and listening to the hum of the city, and it just felt so unnatural.

“Menacing” is too harsh a word, but it’s this hum of anxiety. Everyone is so tense, so hunched. Even the cars feel hunched. I thought, I’ve got to get out of here.

In “I Quit Cars,” Lauren Ferree explains why she gave up on the automobile:

I was born and raised in L.A., and my mom is an environmentalist. We’ve always composted and she’s always had some sort of garden. She also never threw anything away because she could see the second life in it.

I grew into a similar lifestyle. My personal journey into environmentalism was heightened after the presidential election of 2016. The topic of offshore drilling was getting very loud and getting a lot of attention. I’ve always gone to the beach and been a big ocean enthusiast, so I knew I had to kick it into high gear. I started taking extension classes to get a certificate in sustainability at U.C.L.A., and I started assessing my carbon footprint and consumption.

As a result, I decided to give up my car for one month in May of 2017. I just wanted to test if I could do it.

If I needed a car, I was going to borrow someone’s to prove that I had the community to support this decision. I only ended up borrowing a car once, and I realized it didn’t make sense to own a car, finance it and pay for gas. So in September, I fully quit and sold my car.

It was totally liberating. A constant theme I’ve found in not owning a car is liberation. I like not sitting in Los Angeles traffic and the peace that brings. I take the train now to see my boyfriend in Orange County, and I always joked that when I used to see him on Friday nights, I’d get out of the car and be ready to punch somebody in the face because that traffic takes years off your life. Now, taking the train is so easy. There’s only one transfer. I can work. I can read. I can take my time, and I’m in such a good mood.

In “I Quit My Job After a Particularly Good Beach Day,” Veronica Chambers writes:

Once upon a time, I worked at a magazine, reporting to a cowardly white woman who, early in our working relationship, told me that she didn’t consider me a threat because “a black woman will never have this job.”

She then proceeded to use every one of my ideas to completely redesign the magazine we worked for. It was the end of a moment in publishing when such a thing as a “big magazine job” still existed, and I hung on because I really, really wanted to be editor in chief of one.

One Labor Day weekend, my husband and I went away for a last gasp of family beach time. On the following Tuesday, our young daughter was scheduled to start kindergarten at a school that I had dreamed of getting her into for over a year, and I would return to work.

But I just could not leave the beach. It was Monday. We had splurged and gotten a cabana to enjoy. Lying on the beautiful beach that weekend, I knew that if I did not decide, right there, it would be another year before I could find the courage to quit that job.

I stayed on that beach collecting courage. At 3 p.m. we checked out of our room and stored the bags. At 5 we were still on the beach, and home was now, with traffic, a five-and-a-half hour drive away. My husband, who is a saint, said, “Take all the time you need.”

By 6, I had decided to quit. I changed my child into pajamas. I fed her In-N-Out at a rest stop on the freeway. She was asleep in the back seat by 8.

None of it was what I had planned for the night before her first day of school. But at least for the both of us, the day ahead meant new chapters. The next morning, I dropped her off at school bleary eyed and a little worse for wear. Then I walked into my office and quit.

Students, choose ONE essay to read in its entirety, then tell us:

• Have you ever quit something? If yes, tell us what you quit and why. Was it an “impulsive act” or a “tortured decision”? How did others respond to your choice? Shock? Anger? Envy? How did you feel afterward? Do you have any regrets? In retrospect, do you think that quitting was the right thing to do?

• If you have never quit something — a job, a friendship, a class — tell us why. Have you ever felt the urge to quit? What was it that made you continue these endeavors despite challenges and hardships?

• What value do you place on completing a task? Do you feel pressure — good or bad — to complete what you have started? What lessons about quitting have you received from your friends, family and school? Do you think these lessons are helpful?

Students 13 and older are invited to comment. All comments are moderated by the Learning Network staff, but please keep in mind that once your comment is accepted, it will be made public.