Quotes About Struggle

There was no damned romance in our poverty.

Az a fura érzésem támadt, hogy a háborúban mindig ugyanazt az embert kell újra meg újra meggyilkolnunk, míg végül rá fogok ébredni, hogy én magam vagyok az az ember!

No, I'm afraid I'm like the guy who is always panhandling for a smoke. He hasn't even got the makings. He's got only the habit.

Parecía especialmente cruel, por tanto, el que tres días después, en el hospital, el médico entrará en su cuarto y le dijera que padecía algo de lo que jamás podría curarse, y que lo único que podía hacer era controlarlo, como si el control, para un chico de dieciocho años que quiere vivir a tumba abierta, no fuera la negación misma de la vida.

Not having money is time consuming. There are hours spent at laundromats, hours at bus stops, hours at free clinics, hours at thrift stores, hours on the phone with the bank or the credit card company or the phone company over some fee, some little charge, some mistake

You have navigated with raging soul far from the paternal home, passing beyond the seas' double rocks and now you inhabit a foreign land.

Mortal fate is hard. You'd best get used to it.

Have you ever had to get through a day, smiling at people, talking, as if everything were normal and okay, while all the time you felt like you were carrying a leaden weight of unhappiness inside you?

It can be crazy hard. To keep your faith, to keep going. It can be harder than I ever would have imagined. Sometimes things happen to you, really bad things that aren't fair, things that make you feel so terrible you're not even sure who you are anymore or whether you're right or wrong, good or bad. Sometimes you feel like there's no one to turn to, and you're all alone and so scared you can hardly move and so tired you just want to curl up in a ball and go to sleep forever.

She was struck, too, by how often in this sad life a person's gifts are useless in helping him fulfill his true desire.

They are weary of war, but war is what we live for. They are afraid of death, but death is what we love.

We all want the same thing, I guess. Killers or no, good or bad. We all want to be free. We all want to go home.

The world always seems like it's going to hell when you're depressed. And, of course, it always is going to hell in some way. That's what makes it so hard to tell the difference between Armageddon and the blues.

What makes this story so remarkable is that throughout my early childhood I had ongoing learning difficulties, particularly in mathematics. I struggled to learn the multiplication table, and no matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't remember 6 times 7 or 7 times 8.

We probably wiped out other human types, we certainly wiped out other mammals; and throughout our history we have, in the intervals between making art and love, tried very hard to wipe out each other. We began, and we remain, agents of instability.

Nothing, sad to say, has advanced technical progress faster than war.

Opium had been prescribed as laudanum, a liquid 'medicine' that was also very popular among working-class men and women struggling to adapt to the industrial revolution.

Unfortunately I'm one of those people who writes better when they're unhappy.

The night felt forced, off-kilter. We were trying to have fun, fixating on what was available to us, but it was a stretch.

It's just really hard when you've got something, and you think something is going to happen next, and then it's taken away from you. It's one thing when you don't know what you're losing, but to have it, and understand how precious it is, and still lose it . . . It fucking sucks.

I put the story aside and added it to the growing list of things I was inadequate at or incapable of doing.

Did you ever have the problem where you don't want to go where you're supposed to be, but you can't go where you want to be?

And yet I quickly might arrive Where my extended soul is fixt, But Fate does iron wedges drive, And always crowds itself betwixt.

M? tulbur? atât de tare, încât nu îmi voi mai g?si niciodat? locul.