Quotes About Persistence

I write because I've always written, can't stop. I am a writing animal. The way a silk worm is a silk-producing animal.

Nothing, believe me, nothing is more satisfying to me personally than getting a great idea and then beatin' it to death.

Prayer that uses previously unanswered prayers as an excuse for laziness has already ceased to be a prayer of faith. To someone who prays in faith, unanswered prayers are simply the evidence that the answer is much closer. From beginning to end, our Lord's lessons and examples teach us that prayer that is not steadfast and persistent, nor revived and refreshed, and does not gather strength from previous prayers is not the prayer that will triumph. William Arthur

Got any rivers they say are uncrossable, Got any mountains they say "can't tunnel through"? We specialize in the wholly impossible, Doing the things they say you can't do. song of the Panama Canal builders

If we would only move straight ahead in faith, the path would be opened for us . But we stand still, waiting for the obstacle to be removed, when we ought to go forward as if there were no obstacles at all.

The problem of getting great things from God is being able to hold on for the last half hour.

Give a nerd enough time and a door he can close and he can figure out pretty much anything.

He had painstakingly assembled all the ingredients of happiness. He had performed all the necessary rituals, spoken the words, lit the candles, made the sacrifices. But happiness, like a disobedient spirit, refused to come.

But not even the end of the world was going to stop Janet from being a bitch. It was the principle of the thing.

What is written with a sword cannot be erased.

It was ending too soon, the way everything did, everything except Ebola viruses and really bad people like psychopaths. Those things never ended.

he imagined another life for himself as one of these silent scholars, buried in his research like a guinea pig in its wood shavings, nibbling away steadily after some arcane piece of knowledge in the hope of making an addition, however imperceptible, to the collective pile.

He was asked to draw a rabbit that wouldn't keep still as he drew it—as soon as it had paws it scratched itself luxuriously and then went hopping off around the page, nibbling at the other questions, so that he had to chase it with the pencil to finish filling in the fur. He wound up pacifying it with some hastily sketched radishes and then drawing a fence around it to keep it in line.

It was too easy, and he'd had enough of doing things the easy way.

It wasn't time yet. You'll find it again, if you look hard enough.

Give a nerd enough time and a door he can close and he can figure out pretty much anything. "But

The ones who go around knocking on doors and looking for clues never find the thing, the Grail or whatever it is. It's more a matter of having the right attitude.

He wasn't happy. Why not? He had painstakingly assembled all the ingredients of happiness. He had performed all the necessary rituals, spoken the words, lit the candles, made the sacrifices. But happiness, like a disobedient spirit, refused to come.

The beginning, the laying down of the fundamentals, was always the worst part, which he supposed was why so few people did it. That was the thing about the world: it wasn't that things were harder than you thought they were going to be, it was that they were hard in ways that you didn't expect.

never-ending game of tag, where everyone else was it and you could never stop running.

Tal pregunta no tenía otra respuesta que la que la vida da a todas las preguntas irresolubles: vivir el día y procurar olvidar.

The thing to do is to go on, in the same suave tone, from uttering a series of banalities to expressing a new and dangerous thought, without any break. If you succeed in this, the business is done. The reader will not forget - the new words will plague and torment him until he has accepted them.

Objectionable, tedious, irritating labour, - this is the condition of genius, which no doubt explains the reason why men so rarely achieve anything. Genius must submit to cultivate an ass within itself - the condition being so humiliating that man will seldom take up the job.

When a person is young he writes because it seems to him he has discovered a new almighty truth which he must make haste to impart to forlorn humankind. Later, becoming more modest, he begins to doubt his truths: and then he tries to convince himself. A few more years go by, and he knows he was mistaken all round, so there is no need to convince himself. Nevertheless he continues to write, because he is not fit for any other work, and to be accounted a superfluous person is so horrible.