Quotes About Struggle

I had to watch a YouTube video multiple times to figure it out and it still looks lopsided and sad.

I make myself a bowl of Cheerios with sliced banana on top, but I can only force down a few bites.

It's my gift and my curse.

IT'S NO FUN WATCHING PEOPLE WOUND THEMSELVES SO THAT THEY CAN HOLE UP, NURSE THEMSELVES BACK TO HEALTH, AND REPEAT THE CYCLE. THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO.

HOW CONCISE THAT YOU CAN CRY FROM AWFUL WOUNDS, DESERTION, HAPPINESS, MEMORIES, HUMILIATION, DISAPPOINTMENT OR GRANDEUR.

THE FOND OLD COUPLE WAS DISAPPEARING TOGETHER THROUGH SUCCESSIVE AMPUTATIONS.

How was it possible to hate him so much and still need him so much at the same time?

She says every marriage is jerry-rigged. Even the ones that look reasonable from the outside are held together inside with chewing gum and wire and string.

Henry and I make plans to meet for coffee at the place on his block. It is hard for him to get even that far away. "I'm on house arrest," he whispers. "I'm jumping out of my skin." I wish I could give him something for his nerves, but of course, I can't. I remind myself (as I often do) never to become so addicted to drugs or alcohol that I'm not allowed to use them.

I read an article written by a woman living alone who got them. She talks about how depressing it is to have no one to help her with all the spraying and washing and cooking and bagging. She's spent all her money, hasn't had a date in years. I show it to my husband. "It's true. We're lucky," he says.

In the past, we'd talked about books and other people, but now we talked only of our respective babies, hers sweet-faced and docile, mine at war with the world.

What Keats said: No such thing as the world becoming an easy place to save your soul in.

He asks me what my favored platforms are. I explain that I don't use any of them because they make me feel too squirrelly. Or not exactly squirrelly, more like a rat who can't stop pushing a lever. Pellet of affection! Pellet of rage! Please, please, my pretty!

She thinks she should go off her meds maybe so as to write more fluidly. Possibly this is not a good idea. But only possibly.

When my father saw my bloody elbows and knees, he tried to talk me out of flying. "People aren't cut out for it," he explained. "Our bodies are designed all wrong." I didn't believe him. He was the one who had told me about bumblebees, how their wings were too flimsy to support their fat bodies; yet, in the summer, they were everywhere, buzzing impossibly by.

The wife has begun planning a secret life. In it, she is an art monster. She puts on yoga pants and says she is going to yoga, then pulls off onto a country lane and writes in tiny cramped writing on a grocery list She thinks she should go off her meds maybe so as to write more fluidly. Possibly this is not a good idea. But only possibly.

There is a story about a prisoner in Alcatraz who spent his nights in solitary confinement dropping a button on the floor then trying to find it again in the dark. Each night, in this manner, he passed the hours until dawn. I do not have a button. In all other respects, my nights are the same.

Every marriage is jerry-rigged. Even the ones that look reasonable from the outside are held together inside with chewing gum and wire and string.

Maybe it's becoming just a hotel again. Not the place where she stood, then sat, then knelt, palms turned down on the bedspread. Dear God, Dear Monster, Dear God, Dear Monster, she prayed that night, shaking like a junkie until the slow sun rose again.

I wish I could give him something for his nerves, but of course, I can't. I remind myself (as I often do) never to become so addicted to drugs or alcohol that I'm not allowed to use them.

My brother told me once that he missed drugs because they made the world stop calling to him.

I can't bear it," she says. Margot nods. You can barely bear it, I think reflexively.

How about this motherfucking darkness?

Some nights in bed the wife can feel herself floating up towards the ceiling. Help me, she thinks, help me, but he sleeps and sleeps.