Quotes About Weariness

He was a wasteland in a suit; he was bent-postured, he was broken.

Uyan?k geçirdiÄŸi zamanlarda saatler tepesinde dikiliyor, onu y?pratmakta kesinlikle tereddüt etmiyorlard?. Gülümseyerek can?n? ç?kar?yor ama sonra da yaÅŸamas?na izin veriyorlard?. Bir ÅŸeyin yaÅŸamas?na izin vermekte ancak bu kadar art niyet olabilirdi.

Simplemente volvieron juntos a casa, con los pies doloridos y el corazón cansado.

No, thought Liesel as she walked. It's my heart that is tired. A thirteen-year-old heart shouldn't feel like this.

Not another word was said for more than an hour. They only walked home together with aching feet and tired hearts.

It was the tiredness of time lived, with its days and days. It was the tiredness of gravity- gravity, which wants you down in the center of the earth.

Is it a war we are fighting, a war against health, against life and love? My condition is a torn condition. Every day, the dispensing of existence. I see the face of suffering. Its face is fierce and distant and ancient. There's probably a straightforward explanation for the impossible weariness I feel. A perfectly straightforward explanation. It is a mortal weariness. Maybe I'm tired of being human, if human is what I am. I'm tired of being human.

sure of anything right now. I'm just very tired.

If we rub a fabric too often, it will quickly grow threadbare; and Nobu's words had rasped against me so much, I could no longer maintain that finely lacquered surface Mameha had always counseled me to hide behind.

I have already thought it over,' said Rubashov. 'I reject your proposition. Logically, you may be right. But I have had enough of this kind of logic. I am tired and I don't want to play this game anymore. Be kind enough to have me taken back to my cell.

I am weary of worldly gatherings, O Lord What pleasure in them, when the light in my heart is gone? From the clamor of crowds I flee, my heart seeks The kind of silence that would mesmerize speech itself

Duniya ke mehfilon se ukta gaya hoon ya Rab Kya lutf anjuman ka , jab dil hi bujh gaya ho Shorish se bhagta hoon, dil dhoondta hai mera Aisa sukoot jis pe taqreer bhi fida ho I am weary of worldly gatherings, O Lord What pleasure in them, when the light in my heart is gone? From the clamour of crowds I flee, my heart seeks The kind of silence that would mesmerize speech itself

There's not enough of me left over.

I am tired from having lived seventeen different lives, compressed into the space of one.

Jesus, I give you my weariness. I give you my doubt. I give you my desire to give up. I come with my thirst. I offer you my desire, my gifting, my weakness, my need, my failure, my everything. I give you all that I am, God. I give you my love.

Lupetto stanco morto in dormiveglia sente che il mondo tutti i giorni perde un pezzo prezioso, e bisogna subito sostituirlo

But after a while, the whole thing just wasn't interesting to him anymore, and he ran out of things to keep himself numb.

I saw other people there. Old men sitting alone. Young girls with blue eye shadow and awkward jaws. Little kids who looked tired. Fathers in nice coats who looked even more tired. Kids working behind counters of the food places who looked like they hadn't had the will to live for hours. The machines kept opening and closing. The people kept giving money and getting their change. And it all felt very unsettlingly to me.

I saw other people there. Old men sitting alone. Young girls with blue eye shadow and awkward jaws. Little kids who looked tired. Fathers in nice coats who looked even more tired. Kids working behind the counters of the food places who looked like they hadn't had the will to live for hours. The machines kept opening and closing. The people kept giving money and getting their change. And it all felt very unsettling to me.

He reflected that when one gets properly wearied, drowning must really be a comfortable arrangement, a cessation of hostilities accompanied by a large degree of relief, and he was glad of it, for the main thing in his mind for some months had been horror of the temporary agony. He did not wish to be hurt.

I'm tired, boss. Tired of being on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. I'm tired of never having me a buddy to be with to tell me where we's going to, coming from, or why. Mostly, I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world...every day. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head...all the time. Can you understand? ...

The world's decay where the wind's hands have passed, And my head, worn out with love, at rest In my hands, and my hands full of dust.

She was always tired, these days. She put on one of those smiles that wasn't really a smile at all, and they went on.

I felt suddenly, unbearably tired. I felt this peculiar urge to say sorry, and I wasn't sure what for.