Quotes About Struggle

And leaning out the window, enjoying the day above the varying volume of the entire city, only one thought swells my soul – the intimate will to die, to finish, not to see more light over any city, not to think, not to feel, to leave behind like wrapping paper the course of the sun and the days, to rid myself, at the edge of the grand bed, as of a heavy suit, of the involuntary effort to be.

Since we can't extract beauty from life, let's at least try to extract beauty from not being able to extract beauty from life.

Não aspiro a nada. Dói-me a vida. Estou mal onde estou e já mal onde penso em poder estar.

En mi corazón hay una paz de angustia, y mi sosiego está hecho de resignación.

Knowing how easily even the smallest things torture me, I deliberately avoid contact with them. A cloud passing in front of the sun is enough to make me suffer, how then should I not suffer in the darkness of the endlessly overcast sky of my own life?

Tanto tenho vivido sem ter vivido! Tanto tenho pensado sem ter pensado! Pesam sobre mim mundos de violências paradas, de aventuras tidas sem movimento. Estou farto do que nunca tive nem terei, tediento de deuses por existir. Trago comigo as feridas de todas as batalhas que evitei… Em mim o que há de primordial é o hábito e o jeito de sonhar.

My lack of initiative was the root cause of all my troubles - of my inability to want something before having thought about it, of my inability to commit myself, of my inability to decide in the only way one can decide: by deciding, not by thinking. I'm like Buridan's donkey, dying at the mathematical midpoint between the water of emotion and the hay of action; if I didn't think, I might still die, but it wouldn't be from thirst or hunger.

Und so schleppe ich mein Leben damit hin, das zu tun, was ich nicht will, und das zu erträumen, was ich nicht haben kann, absurd wie eine stehen-gebliebene öffentliche Uhr. Nur die zarte, aber feste Sensibilität, der lange, aber vollauf bewusste Traum, bilden in ihrer Gesamtheit mein Halbschattenprivileg.

Pasmo sempre quando acabo qualquer coisa. Pasmo e desolo-me. O meu instinto de perfeição deveria inibir-me de acabar; deveria inibir-me até de dar começo. Mas distraio-me e faço. O que consigo é um produto, em mim, não de uma aplicação de vontade, mas de uma cedência dela. Começo porque não tenho força para pensar; acabo porque não tenho alma para suspender. Este livro é a minha cobardia.

I asked for so little from life and life denied me even that.

Sickness occurs when we desire what we need and what's desirable with equal intensity, suffering our lack of perfection as if we were suffering for lack of bread.

With slight misconceptions of reality we fabricate our hopes and beliefs, and we live off crusts that we call cakes, like poor children who make-believe they're happy.

It could have been any number of things: hardship, grief or simply the suffering born of the indifference that comes from having suffered too much.

Beside my pain, all other pains seem false or insignificant. They are the pains of happy people or of people who are alive enough to complain. Mine is the pain of someone imprisoned in life, cut off …

Mi-am cucerit, puÅ£in câte puÅ£in, teritoriul interior care urma s? fie al meu. Mi-am cerut, unul dup? altul, întinsurile de mlaÅŸtin? în care nu mai r?m?sese nimic din mine. Åži am scos la iveal? fiinÅ£a mea infinit?, dar a trebuit s? m? scot pe mine din mine cu forcepsul". - Fernando Pessoa, Cartea neliniÅŸtirii

There are pigs like me that wallow in their destiny, not drawing away from the banality of daily life because they're enthralled by their own impotence.

Não sabíamos que a ordem nas ruas, nas estradas, nas pontes e nas esquadras tinha de ser comprada por tão alto preço - o da venda a retalho da alma portuguesa.

However, when you're about to write something, knowing beforehand that it's sure to be imperfect, a failure, that is the most spiritually tormenting and humiliating of feelings. I not only feel that the lines I write are unsatisfactory, I know that I will find any lines I write in the future equally unsatisfactory

On the other side sit we — the errand boy from around the corner, the unruly playwright William Shakespeare, the barber who tells stories, the schoolmaster John Milton, the shop assistant, the vagabond Dante Alighieri, those whom death either forgets or consecrates and whom life forgot and never consecrated.

Am s? m? pierd în cea??,ca un str?in de toate,insul? uman? detaÅŸat? de visul m?rii,nav? înc?rcat? inutil cu prea mult? fiin?? ÅŸi prea mult din tot restul.

De meu, só sinto uma incapacidade enorme, um vácuo imenso, uma incompetência ante tudo o que é vida. (...) Nunca aprendi a existir.

Each drop of rain is my failed life weeping in nature.

Ho avuto grandi ambizioni e sogni turgidi - ma i sogni li hanno avuti anche il garzone e la sartina, perché tutti sognano. Quello che distingue le persone le une dalle altre è la forza di farcela, o di lasciare che sia il destino a farla a noi.

I find the slightest action impossible, as if it were some heroic deed. The mere thought of making the smallest gesture weighs on me as if it were something I was actually considering doing.