Quotes About Struggle

Some people hate him because they think he's weird and he gets into fights and gets kicked out of school and does what he wants. Some people worship him because he's weird and he gets into fights and gets kicked out of school and does what he wants.

It's only when you panic that you pull yourself under and sink

The thing is, there are good days and bad days. I feel almost guilty saying they aren't all bad. Something catches me off guard—a TV show, a funny one-liner from my dad, a comment in class—and I laugh like nothing ever happened.

The cadence of suffering has begun."—CesarePavese

It takes many, many coats to cover the red. No matter what I do, it seeps right through, like the walls are bleeding.

Everyone goes on with their lives and maybe I can't keep up. Maybe I don't want to.

No one likes messy. They like smiling Violet. I wonder what Ryan would do if he knew Finch was the one who talked me down and not the other way around. I wonder what any of them would do.

The thing is, there are good days and bad days. I feel almost guilty saying they aren't all bad.

Don't get me wrong – I'd rather be here than dead – but sometimes I feel that everything that, like, makes me up has gone away.

I curl up on my bed, propped against my pillows, books spread across the comforter. Since I stopped writing, I read more than ever. Other people's words, not my own—my words are gone. Right now, I'm into the Brontë sisters.

Writing was me. But now writing is one of the things I can't do.

I barely have to say anything, not even, "I'm not ready." It's in the unwritten rulebook of life, under How to React When a Student Loses a Loved One and Is, Nine Months Later, Still Having a Very Hard Time.

Que sentimento horrível deve ser amar uma pessoa e não ter como ajudá-la.

I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times.

The Candence of has begun. - I am in pieces.

Writing was what I did best, better than being a daughter, or girlfriend, or sister. Writing was me. But now writing is one of the things I can't do.

A girl's life is the worst life in the world. A girl's life is: you are born, you bleed, you burn.

Everyone goes on with their lives, and maybe I can't keep up. Maybe I don't want to.

Estou lutando para permanecer nesse mundo caótico de merda. Ficar no parapeito da torre do sino não é pra morrer. É pra ter controle. É pra nunca mais dormir de novo.

The thing I don't say is: I want to stay alive. The reason I don't say it is because, given that fat folder in front of him, he'd never believe it. And here's something else he'd never believe—I'm fighting to be here in this shitty, messed-up world. Standing on the ledge of the bell tower isn't about dying. It's about having control. It's about never going to sleep again.

It feels a lot like the strain of trying to stay awake when I can feel the darkness sliding under my skin, trying to borrow my body without asking so that my hands become its hands, my legs its legs.

Minha irmã morreu de leucemia e vocês tinham que ver as flores e a empatia. - Ela levanta as mãos e, mesmo do outro lado da mesa, consigo ver as cicatrizes. - Mas quando eu quase morri, ninguém mandou flores. Fui considerada egoísta e louca por desperdiçar minha vida sendo que a da minha irmã tinha sido tirada. [...] - Não me entendam mal, prefiro estar aqui a estar morto, mas às vezes sinto que tudo que fazia de mim quem eu era foi embora.

I can barely hear her because I am trapped in my mind and body, shivering and afraid. I suddenly feel like I have face blindness because no one looks familiar or nice, and my eyes are flying all over the gym, searching for help.

I'm broken, and no one can fix it.