Quotes About Struggle

A King must win. The rest is dust.

Would it help if I said I was very drunk? Brachio shook his head. - We all were. -Shitty childhood? -Mummy used to leave me in a cupboard. -Shitty adulthood? -Whose isn't?

I have seen hell, it is a great city under siege.

A bitter ending' said Yarvi. 'Many sweet stories have them', said Jaud.

Summers past love company, seems every time you turn around there's more o' the bastards at your back.

Strange how, as long as the hardship lasts, we can stand it. As soon as the crisis is over, the strength all leeches away in an instant.

One step at a time,' he muttered to himself as he clambered up the slope. That was the only way to look at it. If you clenched your teeth hard enough, and took enough strides, you could get anywhere. One painful, weary, freezing, guilty step at a time.

West stared at her as she trudged off up the hill after the Northmen, hardly able to believe his ears. She was happy to bed that stinking savage, but he was too angry? It was so unfair he almost choked on his rage.

You want to be merciful. To stand in the light. I understand it. I admire it. But, my queen...Only the victors can be merciful.

If you clenched your teeth hard enough, and took enough strides, you could get anywhere. One painful, weary, freezing, guilty step at a time.

Jezal swallowed and hunched his shoulders, watching the chunks of long dead wood file slowly past like rows of tombstones. "I don't like this," he muttered under his breath. "You think I do?" Bayaz frowned grimly over at him. "You think any of us do? Men must sometimes do what they do not like if they are to be remembered. It is through struggle, not ease, that fame and honor are won. It is through conflict, not peace, that wealth and power are gained.

Everything beautiful has a dark side, and some of us must dwell there, so that others can laugh in the light.

Love is a strange animal. You can't always tame it and make it behave the way you want it to. For years, I thought I could. I thought I could use love the way I used lipstick and perfume. Just to get what I wanted. But real love isn't that way. Real love bangs you around and makes you do things you never thought you would do.

she had wanted love. She had thought love would save her. She had hoped she would be worthy. She had dreamed of redemption. And for a time she believed she had found it all.

Loving him was perhaps like peering into the rain—a sort of sightlessness, akin to stumbling about in a storm, grabbing the things you want to find, and letting the others wash away.

If my father hadn't come to America about 35 years ago, I'd be starving in Poland . . . I'd be sobbing in France . . . I'd be stealing in Greece . . . I'd be shivering in Belgrade . . . I'd be slaving in Frankfurt . . . I'd be hiding in Prague . . . I'd be buried in Russia. But here he was, alive and walking on his own two feet.

Livvy and her father] Neither of us had been as strong as we'd wanted to be.

I hoped her mood would pass, but it looked as if something essential inside her had slipped away. Shell shock. Fatigue of battle. War neurosis. Apparently, it didn't take long to strike.

this book attempts to tackle: the temporal and affective space in which colonial inequities endure and the forms in which they do so.

colonial entailments do not have a life of their own. They wrap around contemporary problems; adhere in the logics of governance; are plaited through racialized distinctions; and hold tight to the less tangible emotional economies of humiliations, indignities, and resentments

Even now, I found it difficult to believe that my father could or might be dying. He had always been a strong man, a good leader. No one had ever seen him with his head bowed in despair or defeat, no one had ever seen him slump in resignation, nor had anyone ever had even so much as a hint from him that he might ever give up. It was hard to picture all that strength drained from my father's body.

What happened is baked into your bones, Edward. It lives under your skin. It's not going away. It's part of you and will be part of you every moment until you die. What you've been working on, since the first time I met you, is learning to live with that.

God is not here to be demanded of, begged from, or criticized. He hands out burdens to those who are strong enough to carry them, and I feel profoundly uncomfortable with the idea of lining up with the other invalids and asking for mine to be alleviated.

Hope may have a positive reputation, but it has a vicious downside. If you have hope, you can be crushed.