Quotes About Struggle

I wanted to get out and walk eastward toward the park through the soft twilight, but each time I tried to go I became entangled in some wild, strident argument which pulled me back, as if with ropes, into my chair. Yet high over the city our line of yellow windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to the casual watcher in the darkening streets... I saw him too, looking up and wondering. I was within and without.

Her grey, sun-strained eyes stared straight ahead, but she had deliberately shifted our relations, and for a moment I thought I loved her. But I am slow-thinking and full of interior rules that act as brakes on my desires, and I knew that first I had to get myself definitely out of that tangle back home.

He found that the business of optimism was no mean task.

Nothing any good isn't hard.

The price for his intactness was incompleteness.

I wish I could write. I get these ideas but I never seem to be able to put them in words.

Work like hell! I had 122 rejection slips before I sold a story.

It's so hard to find a male to gratify one's artistic tastes.

Most of us are content to exist and breed and fight for the right to do both, and the dominant idea, the foredoomed attest to control one's destiny, is reserved for the fortunate or unfortunate few.

A pause; it endured horribly.

It passed, and he began to talk excitedly to Daisy, denying everything, defending his name against accusations that had not been made. But with every word she was drawing further and further into herself, so he gave that up and only the dead dream fought on as the afternoon slipped away, trying to touch what was no longer tangible, struggling unhappily, undespairingly, toward that lost voice across the room.

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

But with every word she was drawing further and further into herself, so he gave that up, and only the dead dream fought on as the afternoon slipped away, trying to touch what was no longer tangible, struggling unhappily, undespairingly, toward that lost voice across the room.

but they were frightened at his survivant will, once a will to live, now become a will to die.

I'm more beautiful than anybody else," she said brokenly, "why can't I be happy?

He felt that he was leaving behind him his chance of being a certain type of artist. It seemed so much more important to be a certain sort of man.

The very qualities I love you for are the ones that will always make you a failure.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

After marriage came elation, and then, gradually, the growth of weariness. Responsibility descended upon Merlin, the responsibility of making his thirty dollars a week and her twenty suffice to keep them respectably fat and to hide with decent garments the evidence that they were.

He was born sleepless, without a talent for rest or the desire for it.

I matched my grey eyes against his brown ones for guile, my young golf-and-tennis heart-beats against his, which must be slowing a little after years of over-work. And I planned and I contrived and I plotted - any woman can tell you - but it never came to anything, as you will see. I still like to think that if he'd been a poor boy and nearer my age I could manage it, but of course the real truth was that I had nothing to offer that he didn't have.

going to work so as to forget that there was nothing worth working for

Dick tried to plunge over the Alpine crevasse between the sexes.

Each life unfulfilled, you see,       It hangs still, patchy and scrappy;     We have not sighed deep, laughed free,       Starved, feasted, despaired—been happy. But his life