Quotes About Struggle

There are open wounds, shrunk sometimes to the size of a pin-prick but wounds still.

If he had to bring all the bitterness and hatred of the world into his heart, he was not going to be in love with her again.

no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . And then one fine morning— So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, I was reminded of something-an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man's, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound and what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever.

I had traded the fight against love for the fight against loneliness, the fight against life for the fight against death.

But his heart was in a constant, turbulent riot.

He did not understand all he had heard, but from his clandestine glimpse into the privacy of these two, with all the world that his short experience could conceive of at their feet, he had gathered that life for everybody was a struggle, sometimes magnificent from a distance, but always difficult and surprisingly simple and a little sad.

The worst thing in the world is to try to sleep and not to.

France was a land, England was a people, but America, having about it still that quality of the idea, was harder to utter - it was the graves at Shiloh and the tired, drawn, nervous faces of its great men, and the country boys dying in the Argonne for a phrase that was empty before their bodies withered. It was a willingness of the heart.

all the time something within her was crying for a decision. She wanted her life shaped now, immediately — and the decision must be made by some force — of love, of money, of unquestionable practicality — that was close at hand

She confused him and hindered the flow of his ideas. Self-expression had never seemed at once so desirable and so impossible.

Something was making him nibble at the edge of stale ideas as if his sturdy physical egotism no longer nourished his peremptory heart.

He says unloved women have no biographies—they have histories.

Nicole's world had fallen to pieces, but it was only a flimsy and scarcely created world; beneath it her emotions and instincts fought on.

Così continuamo a remare, barche contro corrente, risospinti senza posa nel passato.

And so we beat on, books against the critics, borne back ceaslessly into rewrites.

Writers aren't exactly people.... They're a whole bunch of people trying to be one person.

Her love had reached a point where now at last she was beginning to be unhappy, to be desperate.

I guess I'm the Black Death,' he said slowly. 'I don't seem to bring people happiness any more.

She was beautiful-- but especially she was without mercy. He must own that strength that could send him away.

The mouth was wide open and ripped at the corners, as though she had choked a little in giving up the tremendous vitality she had stored so long.

The world is so overgrown that it can't lift its own fingers, and I was planning to be such an important finger-

People fall in and out of love all the time. I wonder how they manage it.

Only the dead dream fought on as the afternoon slipped away, trying to touch what was no longer tangible, struggling unhappily, undespairingly, towards that lost voice across the room.