Quotes About Struggle

Because I don't care what anyone says or how often or winningly they say it: no one will ever, ever be able to persuade me that life is some awesome, rewarding treat. Because, here's the truth: life is catastrophe. The basic fact of existence—of walking around trying to feed ourselves and find friends and whatever else we do—is catastrophe.

Over and over, I kept thinking I've got to go home and then, for the millionth time, I can't.

Sometimes, during the course of the listless day (dazed hours on the sofa, paging dully through the Encyclopaedia Britannica) these thoughts struck Harriet with such fresh force that she crawled in the closet and closed the door and cried, cried with her face in the taffeta skirts of her mother's dusty old party dresses, sick with the certainty that what she felt was never going to get anything but worse.

Harriet was going to be in the eighth grade next year; and what she had not expected was the horrifying new indignity of being classed-for the first time ever-a Teen Girl: a creature without mind, wholly protuberance and excretion, to judge from the literature she was given.

I don't expect you to understand but it's rough to be in love with the wrong person.

back there or maybe even taken an actual shit, and then tried to cover it up with a bunch of coconut air freshener that smelled like suntan lotion. The seats were greasy, and patched with duct tape, and the shocks were nearly gone. Whenever we struck a

but does it make any sense at all to know that it ends badly for all of us, and that we all lose everything that matters in the end-and yet to know as well, despite all this, as cruelly as the game is stacked, that it's possible to play it with a kind of joy?

Nature red in tooth and claw.' Perhaps she doesn't

my endless cramming felt a lot more like self destruction than any glue-sniffing I'd ever done;

But it was also a bit like a failed artist working as a security officer at an art gallery, or a failed author working in a bookshop. There's a constant reminder of how close you are to the thing you want, and how far away from it you are.

The months subsequent were an endless dreary battle of paperwork, full of stalemates, fought in trenches.

jeans jacket, catching him in a chokehold, pistol at

Cuanto más agitas los árboles más hojas caen de ellos.

Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that's why we're so anxious to lose them, don't you think? Remember

What if our badness and mistakes are the very thing that set our fate and bring us round to good? What if, for some of us, we can't get there any other

But walking through it all was one thing; walking away, unfortunately, has proved to be quite another, and though once I thought I had left that ravine forever on an April afternoon long ago, now I am not so sure.

It's often pain tha makes us more aware of self

unfortunately it's necessary," he said, sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve. His course load was

yet to know as well, despite all this, as cruelly as the game is stacked, that it's possible to play it with a kind of joy?

Does such a thing as the fatal flaw, that showy dark crack running down the middle of life, exist outside literature? I used to think it didn't. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs.

We can't choose what we want and don't want and that's the hard lonely truth. Sometimes we want what we want even if we know it's going to kill us. We can't escape who we are.

Yet (moment by painful moment, breath by painful breath) one got through things.

no one will ever, ever be able to persuade me that life is some awesome, rewarding treat. because, here's the truth: life is catastrophe

Fate is cruel but maybe not random. Nature (meaning Death) always wins but that doesn't mean we have to bow and gravel to it.