Quotes About Struggle

Women can be wives and mothers but they can never be people.

An environment of fast growth can cover a multitude of sins, but an era of slow growth will magnify every shortcoming of every person in the business, especially the leaders.

Churches that never deal with the real fight that following My Son requires often grow large but mostly with small Christians.

Nora Dunn When faced with no real friends, she went out into the world and made some, and to watch her try to create a life with meaning was touching.

It seemed to him harder, as he got older, to find a simple way of life.

He didn't tell Newt all he knew. He didn't tell him that even when life seemed easy, it kept on getting harder.

See this page of paper? It's blank," Scull said. "That, sir, is the most frightening battlefield in the world: the blank page. I mean to fill this paper with decent sentences, sir—this page and hundreds like it. Let me tell you, Colonel, it's harder than fighting Lee. Why, it's harder than fighting Napoleon. It requires unremitting attention

Death and worse happened on the plains.

Things are just put together wrong. There's so much shit in the world a man's gonna get in it sooner or later, whether he's careful or not.

We mostly quarreled. He wanted what I wouldn't give. I wanted what he didn't have.

I think we spent our best years fighting on the wrong side.

I suppose she's just dying of living--that's the one infection that strikes us all down, sooner or later.

He might die, but at least he could fight first, and not simply pass his days shaking at the expectation of slaughter.

It was as if his whole life had suddenly lodged in his throat, a raw bite he could neither spit out nor swallow.

Earlier in his life he had done many foolish things in order to convince himself that he was not worthless

Now there was a crack, a kind of canyon, between the Woodrow Call sitting with Teresa on the train and the Woodrow Call who had made the campfire that morning and saddled his horse. The crack was permanent, the canyon deep. He could not get across it, back to himself. His last moments as himself had been spent casually—making a campfire, drinking coffee, saddling a horse.

In the night Lorena tried to sort it out in her mind. She had been hungry so much, tired so much, scared so much, that her mind didn't work well anymore. Sometimes she would try to remember something and couldn't—it was as if her mind and memory had gone and hidden somewhere until things were better.

For a time Dish lost all sense of what life was about. He even lost the sense that he was a cowboy, the strongest sense he had to work with. He was just a fellow with a glass in his hand, whose life had suddenly turned to mud. The day before he had been a top hand, but what did that mean anymore?

There seem to be no way he could stop anything that was happening, although it all felt wrong.

Maude Jones, had killed herself with a shotgun one morning, leaving a note which merely said, 'Can't stand listening to this wind no more.

Part of him wanted to remember; part of him needed to forget.

His feet were swollen to twice their size, besides being cut here and there. Yet they were the only feet he had, and after dozing for an hour in the sun, he got up and hobbled on.

The thought crossed his mind that he ought to have married her and not gone rambling. If he had, he wouldn't be in such a fix. But he felt little fear; just an overpowering fatigue. Life had slipped out of line. It was unfair, it was too bad, but he couldn't find the energy to fight it any longer.

Getting up early and feeling awake was the one skill he had never truly perfected - he got up, of course, but it never felt natural.