Quotes About Struggle

Nations fight against nations, in marriages people fight against each other, children fight against each other. We are in warfare, in a national warfare, and in warfare with each other and with ourselves.

It's all been guerrilla warfare trying to get my name out there.

Counter-insurgency warfare is not a simple thing... it's not as simple as, like, good guys versus bad guys. It is a mess.

Class warfare has never created a job.

There may be a great fire in our hearts, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke.

I was stillborn. The midwives laid me aside, thought I was really gone. I laid there about an hour, and they picked me back up and tried again, 'cause my body was still warm. The Good Lord brought me back.

And when you see it the first time you put the film together, the roughest cut, is when you want to go home and open up your veins and get in a warm tub and just go away. And then it gradually, maybe, works its way back, somewhere toward that spot you were at before.

It's just really hard to commit to clean eating, and then sometimes you don't want to eat cold salads. Sometimes you want that warm comfort food.

I know it wasn't like a meteoric rise, it was not overnight success. Nobody watched my movie, fell in love and said 'I'm her biggest fan.' People took time to warm up to me.

Looking back now, I realise that belonging to the family of a labourer actually helped to prepare my body for boxing. There were many times when my family didn't have enough food or warm clothing to go around. All this made me physically, as well as emotionally, tough.

I would have had a much different story to tell if I had been imprisoned after being separated from my family, without a warm bed and only the cold faces of ICE agents and the crinkly feeling of a Mylar blanket.

I get a fine warm feeling when I'm doing well, but that pleasure is pretty much negated by the pain of getting started each day. Let's face it, writing is hell.

The stuff I write about doesn't, like, necessarily leave people feeling warm and fuzzy. I'm writing in a territory that's, like, contested and full of prickliness. And I find that people project their problems onto me or something.

I tried during the 1974 campaign to show my husband not as the aloof intellectual people think he is, but the warm, passionate man I know. But the day after the election - after I'd worked so hard - I was put back on the shelf. I was devastated.

If you've just been sacked from work, with no money coming in and a baby to feed, clothe and keep warm, it's unlikely you'll have a thousand pounds or so to spare.

I wasn't aware so many kids were lacking basic things like a hot meal at night and somewhere warm and safe to live.

My older brothers would scour the railway tracks for lumps of fallen coal to keep us warm and we'd sleep, top to tail, three to a bed. So we were seriously poor in every way except for one. We were rich in love.

Life was a struggle financially when I was growing up in Manchester and my father continued the strict upbringing he himself had had, even after our very warm and demonstrative mother died.

He doesn't know how to be warmer. I can't blame him. My dad had to deal with more stuff than I ever did.

If you live in Port Arthur, Texas, and you don't have any food to feed your family for dinner tonight, global warming is not the most important issue; getting a job and feeding your family is.

As the people of Shishmaref lose their natural hunting grounds to the warming sea, they are forced to buy U.S. canned goods from the only local store on the island; however, this is not their natural diet and cannot sustain them throughout the year.

If people want to believe that our ancestors were riding around on dinosaurs or that the protracted, increasing, and devastating warming of the Earth is just nature doing its thing - I guess I feel I have more useful battles to fight.

Men who do not contend in earnest can have little warmth and fervor in what they undertake, and are more than half prepared to betray the cause, in the vindication of which they have engaged their services.

I was quite bowled over by Isabel Wilkerson's masterly saga, 'The Warmth of Other Suns.'