Quotes About Struggle

Police work wasn't always simple, but it had clear-cut goals. You figured out who did it, or what did it, and you caught them, or killed them. Problem solved. When crime busting is easier than your personal life, something has gone seriously wrong. The

If something makes you happy you should just enjoy it and embrace it, but I've got a whole list of things that make me happy and I fought like hell not to enjoy them, not to want them, not to do them, because they didn't match who I thought I was, or who I thought I should be.

Stephen wasn't going to work through his issues in time to save his relationship with Vanessa

You have given me hope,and I curse you for it. I thought I had given up on such useless thoughts, but there it is, The last refuge of madmen and dreamers -Dr.Zhir, Star Trek:TNG:NightShade-

The great bad thing happens, and you become a ghost in your own life, and then you become flesh and blood and remake your life, but the ghosts of what happened don't go away completely. They wait for you in low moments, and then they wail at you, shaking their chains in your face and trying to strangle you with them.

I slowed, just a little, one to save energy, and one to let Russell catch up sooner. I took a big breath and prepared. I knew what I wanted to do. But my body had to do it. I couldn't hesitate because my back or my arm or anything else hurt. I risked a glance back, and Russell was almost there, almost on me. I kicked him, full out, straight in the balls.

Hey, Blake, do you really need to step outside?" Zerbrowski took my arm as if to lead me towards the door. "Thanks, but I'm fine." I looked him straight in his baby-browns and lied. He knew I was lying. I wasn't all right, but I'd make it. He released my arm, stepped back, and gave me a mock salute. "I love a tough broad." I smiled before I could stop it. "Go away, Zerbrowski.

How do we stop them from killing innocent weretiger citizens, and the bigger question, how do we stop her?" "You're the necromancer, I'm just a humble killer," he said.

When he first told me, I'd been convinced I'd be the one that would die; now I wasn't so sure, maybe I would win. Maybe I could call Donna and the kids and tell them . . . Tell them what? That their family was destroyed because Edward and I had had the ultimate guy moment and I was the better man?

Inside it felt like the hardest thing in the world. To just let go, and not pick everything to death. To just let go and enjoy what you had. To just let go and not make everybody around you miserable with your own internal dialogue. To just let go and be happy. So simple. So difficult. So terrifying.

My lioness was crouched inside me, ready to spring, but would that hurt me more than him? "It means I can feed on things besides sex, and I'm trying very hard not to feed on you." "I know you are trying not to have sex with me." Great. It was like he'd edited what I'd said and heard only the sex part. I should have known he would.

anyone who ever said love conquers all was a fucking liar. Love is a good place to start, but it's a start, not an end.

I dropped the blood-coated chair leg and collapsed to my knees. I couldn't swallow. I couldn't breathe. I was splattered with blood. I'd never beaten someone to death before. It had felt good.

I seemed to have only two speeds on problems that hit me emotionally, either putting my fingers in my ears and going la-la-la, or picking up an axe and attacking the issue.

You have to fight to carve little pieces of happiness out of your life, or the everyday emergencies will eat up everything.

You don't always win your battles, but it's good to know you fought.

I'm a refugee from happiness with nowhere else to go.

Maybe this is hell, I thought: alone in my house in the middle of the night, stuck in an endless loop of thermal discomfort.

Sometimes Richard had the sinking suspicion that he had a far better chance of preventing Bonaparte from conquering Europe than he had of thwarting his mother's plans to see him married off within the next Season.

He admired her for throwing off her aristocratic shackles -- his terms, that -- and making her own way in the world. He didn't realize that the truth was so much more complex, so much less impressive. She had less thrown than been thrown.

Enraged, the other crew members

The Warrior battles the whole of his life, within and without, against the notion that life doesn't make a difference.

Loss. A strange word. It seemed to mean an absence, something missing; but loss was also a presence all its own, a fanged and snarling monster ready at any moment to break its chain and snatch someone away.

Ni las artes del médico ni las del filósofo habrían sido jamás capaces de enderezar del todo semejante entuerto.