Quotes About Struggle

The world is full of things we can't control. All we can do is keep trying, keep working.

Without temptation, there was no virtue in resistance.

Every day," she'd told him, "you have to decide how to fail, and make the best of it." At the time, he'd found it cynical. Now he honestly found it helpful — if for no other reason than he knew it was normal and he knew he wasn't alone.

Sometimes you get a good eyeful of a man-sized action figure—and he knows what you are, and what you can do … and you know what he is, and what he's done before, or what he's helping other people do. And you just can't stand it because for all his bluster and bullshit he's weak and horrible, and cowardly, and if he caught you, he'd do terrible things to you—the kinds of things that were done to Ian and Isabelle.

Every day,' she told him, 'you have to decide how to fail, and make the best of it.' At the time, he'd found it cynical. Now he honestly found it helpful — if for no other reason than he knew it was normal and he knew he wasn't alone.

he dove for it, they'd

Her breathing hitched. Too much was happening too fast. The wanton episode was so inconceivable that it played out like a fantasy---except that he was really present, arousing and addictive. Her mind wailed for her to call a halt, but her body wouldn't obey. 'I'd planned to have you on your bed the first time"---his assertion brushed against her ear---"but maybe I should take you here, by the mirror, so you can see how splendid we are together.

why do I struggle with believing God will deliver on the promise of a husband and a family?

Can't You get just ONE GUY to love me? You know this is the position I have been in my entire life. Unloved. Unknown. Not chosen.

amazing how quickly Satan can use what's supposed to be a blessing and a gift from God to derail you into a place where you're thankless for the gift. You focus on what you don't have instead.

I'm so sick of my life. The chapter I want doesn't get written. I'm always stuck in the "wait" chapter.

I've prayed countless prayers to God saying, "Please take this desire away." But He hasn't! I even asked, "Just take the desire away until you're ready to give it to me. Hold it in a box. Duct tape it closed for later because I don't want to desire anything that you don't have for me right now! It hurts too much.

Housework can look like a Sisyphean task that gives you no sense of reward or completion .

I managed to persevere partly because not everyone responded with that stare; there was enthusiasm as well. And I was struck that no one responded with bored indifference. The topic was clearly hot—too hot for some people to handle, heartwarming to others.

Gabe ran his hand through his hair and suppressed sending an entreaty to God. It wouldn't do any good. The motley crew before him could only have been sent by the devil himself. His long lost sister, a hippie vampire, an angry Italian cop, and a tattooed man with no last name. It was as if Central Casting had thrown up its hands and sent over whomever had walked in the door.

I was a terrible believer in things,but I was also a terrible nonbeliever in things. I was as searching as I was skeptical. I didn't know where to put my faith,or if there was such a place,or even what the word faith meant, in all of it's complexity. Everything seemed to be possibly potent and possibly fake.

Forgiveness doesn't sit there like a pretty boy in a bar. Forgiveness is the old fat guy you have to haul up a hill.

God is not a granter of wishes. God is a ruthless bitch.

The place of true healing is a fierce place. It's a giant place. it's a place of monstrous beauty and endless dark and glimmering light.

I had problems a therapist couldn't solve; grief that no man in a room could ameliorate.

There is no cure except to live the hell out of our lives, to take it apart, to put it back together, to dig it all up, and then fill the hole. To help ourselves and one another to the best of our abilities. To believe everything entirely, while also calling bullshit for what it is.

I would want things to be different than they were. The wanting was a wilderness and I had to find my own way out of the woods.

Being with him felt unbearable, but being with anyone else did too.

I walked and I walked, my mind shifting into a primal gear that was void of anything but forward motion, and I walked until walking became unbearable, until I believed I couldn't walk even one more step. And then I ran.