Quotes About Exhaustion

This book-promotion stuff is like a political campaign. You work your butt off, and at the end of the day, you can't tell if it's made a damned bit of difference.

The natural consequence of our submission, even in part, to the system that looks to compelling the export of raw products, the exhaustion of the land, the cheapening of labour, and the export of the labourer.

Christmas is a race to see which gives out first - your money or your feet.

You know it's a bad case when the only way you can catch up on your sleep is to get unconscious.

my well of self has run dry.

It was plain to see the toll the extraordinary climb had taken—for an hour after Bandoola reached the top, his legs continued to quiver with involuntary contractions. What a relief

Are you worn-out from engaging in the exhausting pursuit of happiness? You will continue to experience unrest in your soul until Jesus becomes your primary pursuit.

Our minds are like junk yards. What we put into them is mostly rubbish! The conversations, the newspapers, the entertainment, we just pile it all in. There's a jam session going on in there. And the problem is it makes us very tired,

What I learnt from that was that the exhaustion that pain brings arises because we resist it. The thing is to learn to go with the pain, to ride it.

The enemy came. He was beaten. I am tired. Goodnight. (Message sent after the battle of Dunen, 658)

Exhaustion pays no mind to age or beauty. Like rain and earthquakes and hail and floods.

There's something insane about this business - about the cycle of making albums and going on tour to promote them.

I'm on the verge of a total breakdown. Sciatica. Taxes. Cars. Fleas, possibly. It's an absurd existence.

I just completed a long car trip on a Sunday in August with two small children, which believe me is enough to convince you that Samuel Beckett was right about everything.

Twenty Inches and Eight pounds of infant can, and undoubtedly sometimes will, reduce two or more intelligent, competent, organized adults to anxious, exhausted incompetent jellies.

Claudia types. She has to pause from time to time to shake sand from the typewriter. She types partly from expediency and partly to exorcise what is now printed on her eyeballs. She tries to reduce to words what she has seen and thought. She types also because she is dog-tired, thirsty, aching and bad-tempered and if she does not occupy herself she might give away some of this, and be ashamed.

somnolence, and on one occasion could not

Gracias a mi cansancio, el mundo se liberaba de sus nombres y se hacía grande.

It was a jaw cracking, lung-bursting yawn that lasted almost a minute.

The strength was draining out of him minute by minute. Maybe he'd never move again.

Lyra was so tired, she felt on the verge of delirium. She wanted to sleep quite desperately, but she knew that if she gave in and put her head down, she wouldn't wake up till the morning was filling the sky.

It just makes me a person that's really exhausted a couple other ways to live, you know? And really taken them, taken them to their conclusion. Which for me was a pink room, with no furniture and a drain in the center of the floor.

I was getting awfully tired of all the ranting, no matter who it came from.

It is an awful thing to be betrayed by your body. And it's lonely, because you feel you can't talk about it. You feel it's something between you and the body. You feel it's a battle you will never win . . . and yet you fight it day after day, and it wears you down. Even if you try to ignore it, the energy it takes to ignore it will exhaust you.