Quotes About Weariness

However weary he might be of life after three centuries of it, he was more weary of witnessing death.

Fuck me. I'm so tired of being me.

Con el tiempo todas las cosas se cansan y comienzan a buscar algún oponente que las salve de sí mismas.

Belki kendi kalbi bile onun kötülüÄŸünden b?km??t?r...

She did not want to move, or to speak. She wanted to rest, to lean, to dream. She felt very tired.

I exist only in the soles of my feet and in the tired muscles of my thighs. We have been walking for hours it seems. But where? I cannot remember.

Ruin, weariness, death, perpetually death, stand grimly to confront the other presence of Elizabethan drama which is life: life compact of frigates, fir trees and ivory, of dolphins and the juice of July flowers, of the milk of unicorns and panthers' breath, of ropes of pearl, brains of peacocks and Cretan wine.

It would be a comfort, she felt, to lean; to sit down; yes, to lie down; never, never, never to get up again.

How tired I am of stories, how tired I am of phrases that come down beautifully with all their feet on the ground! Also, how I distrust neat designs of life that are drawn upon half-sheets of note-paper. I begin to long for some little language such as lovers use, broken words, inarticulate words, like the shuffling of feet on the pavement.

Ma il verme dei viaggi era entrato nei loro cervelli, e non smetteva di roderli. Giovanni trovò, nelle vecchie abitudini di Catania, quell'odore sgradevole che dopo due o tre anni si trova in un abito di fatica. Le passeggiate per il corso, i discorsi con gli amici, mio Dio, di nuovo?

Oh, let me be mawkish for the nonce! I am so tired of being cynical.

She wonders if he is as exhausted by all the lying as she is.

No one is ever ready for something like this. You don't do it because you're ready. You do it because you're weary. And I am weary. I have been weary for too long.

Lavorare stanca.

And I am bored to death with it. Bored to death with this place, bored to death with my life, bored to death with myself.

I know how hard it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to support life in myself; but do you know how easy it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to destroy life in you?" Every

I felt like one who was toiling home barefoot from distant travel, and whose wanderings had lasted many years.

Some days the burdens may seem so heavy and the weariness so profound that you may wonder if God has forsaken you. Why would He allow you to experience such deep adversity? Yet do not despair. He has a clear purpose for your suffering: so you will know the Savior better and reflect His character.

Verbs. All of them tiring.

the sense of being dehumanised, reduced to little more than an extension of your equipment and weaponry, the constant feeling of being used as an object, manipulated by blind, invisible hands, controlled by a force that was either malignant or stupid, the sense of being exhausted in a metaphorical and quite often literal darkness, of being exhausted, frightened, sick, sometimes so weary that you slept while on your feet like a horse. And ignorance, stupefying, brutalising ignorance.

We think that some ties are so strong that they can withstand anything, but it's not true. When trust is broken, weariness sets in. Then poor choices, the deceptive lure of seduction and sorry twists of fate, all conspire to kill off love. In this type of unusual contest, the chances of winning are slim, more the exception than the rule.

I am tired,, tired of always having to be the strong one, of always having to do the right thing.

I swallow the words I have to say, "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired, "I am tired,, tired of always having to be the strong one, of always having to do the right thing.

Maybe he was a good man once, this old one, my predecessor, but they had worn him down, in thirty years, like a big knife made thin and fragile, needlelike, from constant honings. All that good steel just rubbed away no one knew where.