Quotes About Struggle

Both of us, together in the same delirium, yoked up together for the selfsame chore. Dragging the waters, together. Our huge nets scraping the ocean floor for its meager treasures. Infallible, a madman's memory drags up details like mussel shells.

David thought living in a house was very difficult. It was not the house itself--that was lovely to be in--but the people. What was so difficult about them was that they constantly seemed to expect him to say and do things he would never have though of, and what appeared sensible and natural to him seemed to surprise them...

People...who have no resources in themselves for securing a good and happy life find every age burdensome

The reason I never give up hope is because everything is so basically hopeless.

The earth is rocky and full of roots it's clay, and it seems doomed and polluted, but you dig little holes for the ugly shriveled bulbs, throw in a handful of poppy seeds, and cover it all over, and you know you'll never see it again - it's death and clay and shrivel, and your hands are nicked from the rocks, your nails black with soil.

Most of me was glad when my mother died. She was a handful, but not in a cute, festive way. More in a life-threatening way, that had caused me a long time ago to give up all hope of ever feeling good about having had her as a mother.

And I felt like my heart had been so thoroughly and irreparably broken that there could be no real joy again, that at best there might eventually be a little contentment. Everyone wanted me to get help and rejoin life, pick up the pieces and move on, and I tried to, I wanted to, but I just had to lie in the mud with my arms wrapped around myself, eyes closed, grieving, until I didn't have to anymore.

You can get the monkey off your back, but the circus never leaves town

Change was Fate' the Romans said. well, Andreas loathed Fate, That Bitch.

Now,' [her father] barked. She stiffly followed, still fully dressed in the elaborate navy-and-white gown she had worn all evening. It was hard not to feel as if the bare walls and surfaces she passed had been bled, leeched, into the cloth encasing her. Stripped paint and sacrificed heirlooms clinging to her, demanding she make everything right once more.

Her pride had once been a mile wide. So fierce and strong that she'd thought she could survive on the trait alone. The constant ache in her belly, the desperation, Kenny's fate...all had shown her otherwise.

Trant's deep need to climb ever upward, crushing anyone in his path, the qualities, while making Trant an interesting associate at times, at others made him decidedly predictable and boring. After all, a ladder contained a single directional path. Someone like Trant rarely tried the twisting vines, tree branches, and handholds to the side.

I was fifteen years old when I began to hate people.

I was sick of pretending, sick of selling my feelings for a dollar a day.

I sat there listening to "We Shall Overcome," looking out of the window at the passing Mississippi landscape.

We shall overcome, We shall overcome / We shall overcome some day.' I WONDER. I really WONDER.

It isn't for the moment you are struck that you need courage, but for that long uphill climb back to sanity and faith and security.

You've tormented my dreams and tortured my days. I hear your voice in other women's voices. The scent of your hair teases my senses…a memory I can't expunge. You haunt me, coming between me and my work and my pleasures, and so I'm going to exorcise you. I'm going to take you, to satiate myself with you until I no longer want you. Since you won't come to me freely, you'll come to me under duress, but come to me you will.

She's one of these beautiful women who's just a nobody and a nothing, and when they make it big, they always fall apart. Money can't do anything for them. Fame only makes things worse.

Writers, as they gain success, feel like outsiders because writers don't come together in real groups.

Evil is always possible. And goodness is eternally difficult.

I can't help being a gorgeous fiend. It's just the card I drew.

People who cease to believe in God or goodness altogether still believe in the devil... Evil is always possible. And goodness is eternally difficult.

Oh Lestat, you deserved everything that's ever happened to you. You better not die. You might actually go to hell.