Quotes About Struggle

Sus oídos, escucharon un último disparo; una bala viajó por su cuerpo sin permiso, atravesándolo por una pierna.

sentado sobre un viejo sillón desgastado, en una esquina sombría de la habitación, desmoronado, sin ganas de hacer alguna cosa, desilusionado por la cadena de fracasos en los últimos años;

Cuando empezó a meterse de cabeza en la revolución, yo entendí lo que nos esperaba para siempre

imposible negar los sentimientos de miedo, arrepentimiento, angustia, soledad, clandestinidad que siempre nos acompañaron.

My head'll explode if I continue with this escapism.

Shadow and wind compete for dominance, but both teach important lessons.

Pain isn't a competition. You have a right to the feelings in your heart. I just don't want to see you drown in them.

Were I a black man, it occurs to me, working or not, in this city, I would have a dry-cleaning bill.

Sometimes what we want to do and what we must do are not the same. Pasquo, the smaller the space between your desire and what is right, the happier you will be.

A writer needs four things to achieve greatness, Pasquale: desire, disappointment, and the sea." "That's only three." Alvis finished his wine. "You have to do disappointment twice.

There is no royal path to good writing; and such paths as do exist do not lead through neat critical gardens, various as they are, but through the jungles of self, the world, and of craft.

Writing is so difficult that I often feel that writers, having had their hell on earth, will escape all punishment hereafter.

Writing is so difficult that writers having had their hell on earth, will escape all punishment here after.

In searching for a way out of my own troubles, I had found my way into the trouble of others, some long gone, and now I was trying to find my way back out, through their troubles, as if we human beings can ever learn from one another.

There will be no magic, whatsoever. Magic is either a poverty-stricken necessity or a wealthy fantasy. We are in neither of those straits, and what cannot be explained will be left unknown.

Somehow we are all seeking some appropriate burden. Until we find it we are horribly shackled, can in fact scarcely live.

That's the trouble with the hospital-they find all the things that have been killing you forever, and that you are okay with, you're okay with those things slowly killing you, but then they find them and get rid of them, and then other things replace the things you were fine with, and you are not fine, not fine at all with the new things, and so you die, slowly, in utter misery, just the way you would have before, only before you were pretty okay with the manner of it, but now you're not.

When I think about what my future holds, it is a bit like looking into the sun. I flinch away, or I don't and my eyes get burned down a bit, like candles, and then I can't see for a while.

In general I think sadness kind of take the strength away from anger, or maybe they just waver back and forth. I don't know. All I know is most of the time I am one or the other—angry or sad.

We get offered so few real victories. It's a question I can't even really answer: what is the victory I want?

One wants the struggle. One shouldn't permit it to be removed.

We are all doomed to seek our own happiness; we can't help ourselves. We are all, the cruel and the gentle alike, condemned to seeking that happiness in the dark. We use our need as the blind use a walking stick, to determine the safety of every forward step.

My right and my privilege to stand here before you has been won—won in my lifetime—by the blood and the sweat of the innocent.

I am not a perfect servant. I am a public servant doing my best against the odds. As I develop and serve, be patient. God is not finished with me yet.