Quotes About Struggle

I know," he finally responded. "But it was so … vicious. So brutal. I wish I could've just shot him from a distance with a gun or something." "Yeah. Sorry it had to go down that way." "What if I see his nasty face every night when I go to sleep? What if he's in my dreams?" He felt a surge of irritation at Brenda for making him stab the Crank—maybe unwarranted when he really considered how desperate they'd been.

He finally pulled it all back into his heart, sucking in the painful tide of his misery.

But what about all those dead people we saw? Maybe they rescued us for real, got killed, and now we're screwed. Maybe we were supposed to do something, but now it's all been messed up and we've been left here to die.

The anticipation of fighting was almost worse than the fear of it.

Hey, buddy, you suck at suicide negotiations.

Killing another human. It wasn't easy to accept.

No, Newt, I don't understand," Minho said, the frustration in his voice escalating. "We risked our necks to come to this place and you're our friend and we're taking you home. You wanna whine and cry while you go crazy, that's fine. But you're gonna do it with us, not with these shuck Cranks.

The fact that the Gladers hadn't given up said more about these people than anything else. And now he was one of them. This is my life, he thought. Living in a giant maze, surrounded by hideous beasts. Sadness filled him like a heavy poison.

Tonight, they'd fight. Tonight, they'd make their stand, once and for all.

Maybe when their minds go, they're not themselves anymore. Maybe the Newt we know is gone and he's not aware of what's happening to him. So really, he's not suffering." Minho almost looked offended by the notion. "Nice try, slinthead, but I don't believe it. I think he'll always be there just enough to be screaming on the inside, deranged and suffering every shuck second of it. Tormented like a dude buried alive.

I'm a bloody Crank!

Y, aun así, no habían encontrado una salida. Y, a pesar de eso, a pesar de la completa falta de esperanza en aquella situación, seguían sin rendirse.

He didn't know how he'd make it through the next five minutes. Or the next hour. How could he possibly go through an entire day? Then sleep and start the whole thing all over again? Despair sucked at him, an empty, yawning void that threatened to pull him down into an awful abyss. A panic-laced craziness struck him. Suffusing it all, the pain.

La implacable dificultad de la situación en que se encontraban era como un fuerte diluvio de agua negra que arrasaba con todo, presionándolo para que se diera por vencido. Sin embargo, resistió y empujó hacia delante.

Sleep felt miles away, and he couldn't shake the despair and hopelessness that coursed through his body and mind—

His friends subjected to cruel trials that might never mean a thing.

It's be tough now or everyone dies later.

By the end of the day, the Gladers had turned into a small army. A very pathetic, ill-prepared Army, Thomas thought, but an army all the same.

My memory's fading already, Tom. I won't remember much when I wake up. We can pass the Trials. It has to end. They sent me as a trigger.

Tom, I'm really sorry. I can tell you're having a hard time forgiving me. Would you be any different? No. I kind of accepted it, in a way. That saving you was worth losing what we might've had.

But they'd survived that, too, eventually finding their way to the settlements. Where they might've lived in peace if it weren't for a committee called the PCC.

A cavity seemed to open within Thomas,widening and sucking the hope out of him.

So we've had to up the ante, and now it's time for Phase Two. It's time for things to get difficult.

Newt looked at the Cranks, then back at Thomas. 'It comes and goes, man. I can't explain it. Sometimes I can't control myself, barely know what I'm doing. But usually it's just like an itch in my brain, throwing everything off-kilter just enough to nother me-make me angry.