Quotes About Struggle

Ah! the anguish, the vile rage, the despair Of not being able to express With a shout, an extreme and bitter shout, The bleeding of my heart!

Conformarse es someterse y vencer es conformarse, ser vencido. Por eso cualquier victoria es una grosería. Los vencedores pierden siempre todas las cualidades de desaliento con el presente que los llevaron a la lucha que les dio la victoria.

My pride stoned by blind men and my disillusion trampled on by beggars.

My soul finds hard edges to all the soft comforts on which I lean for support.

Ma evitando quel contatto mi sono isolato, e nell'isolarmi ho esacerbato la mia sensibilità già eccessiva. ... Non ho mai considerato il suicidio come una soluzione perché io odio la vita per l'amore che sento per essa. Mi ci è voluto del tempo a capire il penoso equivoco in cui vivo con me stesso. Una volta convinto mi sono addolorato, cosa che mi succede ogni volta che mi convinco di qualcosa, perché la convinzione per me è sempre la perdita di un'illusione.

Ah, how I'd love to fall right from here Through a trapdoor—clack!—to my grave! Life tastes to me like mild tobacco. All I ever did was smoke life away. What I really want is faith and peace And to get these sensations under control. Put an end to this, God! Open the floodgates! Enough of this comedy in my soul!

Porque, al final, ¿quién soy, cuando no juego? Un pobre huérfano abandonado en la calle de las Sensaciones, tiritando de frío por las esquinas de la Realidad, que tiene que dormir en la escalinata de la Tristeza y comer el pan que le da la Fantasía.

The life one lives is one long misunderstanding, a happy medium between a greatness that does not exist and a happiness that cannot exist.

It's as if someone were using my life to beat me with.

I prefer to fail having known the beauty of flowers than to triumph in a wilderness, for triumph is the blindness of the soul left alone with its own worthlessness.

I'm always astonished whenever I finish anything. Astonished and depressed. My desire for perfection should prevent me from ever finishing anything; it should prevent me even from starting.

Ebrio de errores, me pierdo a veces por sentirme vivir.

Whenever I've tried to free my life from a set of the circumstances that continually oppress it, I've been instantly surrounded by other circumstances of the same order, as if the inscrutable web of creation were irrevocably at odds with me. I yank from my neck a hand that was choking me, and I see that my own hand is tied to a noose that fell around my neck when I freed it from the stranger's hand. When I gingerly remove the noose, it's with my own hands that I nearly strangle myself.

Whenever my ambition, influenced by my dreams, raised up above the everyday level of my life, so that for a moment I seemed to soar, like a child on a swing, I always – like the child – had to come down to the public garden and face my defeat, with no flags to wave in battle and no sword I was strong enough to unsheath.

I begin because I don't have the strength to think; I finish because I don't have the courage to quit. This book is my cowardice.

Tenho uma grande tristeza Acrescentada à que sinto. Quero dizer-ma mas pesa O quanto comigo minto.

I've witnessed, incognito, the gradual collapse of my life, the slow foundering of all that I wanted to be.

Every day I'm mistreated by Matter.

I have to choose what I detest - either dreaming, which my intelligence hates, or action, which my sensibility loathes; either action, for which I wasn't born, or dreaming, for which no one was born. Detesting both, I choose neither; but since I must on occasion either dream or act, I mix the two things together.

He vivido tanto sin haber vivido! ¡He pensado tanto sin haber pensado! Pesan sobre mí mundos de violencias detenidas, de aventuras vividas sin movimiento. Estoy harto de lo que nunca he tenido ni tendré, tedioso de dioses por existir. Llevo conmigo las heridas de todas las batallas que he evitado. Mi cuerpo muscular está molido por el esfuerzo que no he podido hacer.

I am troubled by a crushing physical sense of other people's lack of comprehension.

I asked for very little from life, and even this little was denied me. A nearby field, a ray of sunlight, a little bit of calm along with a bit of bread, not to feel oppressed by the knowledge that I exist, not to demand anything from others, and not to have others demand anything from me—this was denied me, like the spare change we might deny a beggar not because we're mean-hearted but because we don't feel like unbuttoning our coat.

Pobres semidioses novatos que conquistan imperios con la palabra y con la intención noble, pero necesitan dinero para pagar el cuarto y la comida!

A swinging pendulum, back and forth, forever moving to arrive nowhere, eternally captive to the twin fatality of a centre and a useless motion.