Quotes About Struggle

He was afraid of defiling the love which filled his soul.

I'm like a starving man who has been given food. Maybe he's cold, and his clothes are torn, and he's ashamed, but he's not unhappy.

How can one be well...when one suffers morally?

Here I am alive, and it's not my fault, so I have to try and get by as best I can without hurting anybody until death takes over.

Morning or night, Friday or Sunday, made no difference, everything was the same: the gnawing, excruciating, incessant pain; that awareness of life irrevocably passing but not yet gone; that dreadful, loathsome death, the only reality, relentlessly closing in on him; and that same endless lie. What did days, weeks, or hours matter?

I am always with myself, and it is I who am my tormentor.

Himmlisch ist's wenn ich bezwungen Meine irdische Begier; Aber doch wenn's nich gelungen Hatt' ich auch recht huebsch Plaisir! Loosely translated: It is heavenly, when I overcome My earthly desires But nevertheless, when I'm not successful, It can also be quite pleasurable.

Always the same. Now a spark of hope flashes up, then a sea of despair rages, and always pain; always pain, always despair, and always the same. When alone he had a dreadful and distressing desire to call someone, but he knew beforehand that with others present it would be still worse.

God forgive me everything!' she said, feeling the impossibility of struggling...

I did not myself know what I wanted: I feared life, desired to escape from it, yet still hoped something of it.

And he has to live like this on the edge of destruction, alone, with nobody at all to understand or pity him

I am not strange but I feel queer. I am like that sometimes. I feel like crying all the time. It is very silly but it will pass.

We are all created to be miserable, and that we all know it, and all invent means of deceiving each other. And when one sees the truth, what is one to do?

It can't be that life is so senseless and horrible. But if it really has been so horrible and senseless, why must I die and die in agony? There is something wrong!

Always the same. Now a spark of hope flashes up, then a sea of despair rages, and always pain; always pain, always despair, and always the same.

What tormented Ivan Ilych most was the deception, the lie, which for some reason they all accepted, that he was not dying but was simply ill, and that he only need keep quiet and undergo a treatment and then something very good would result.

When I first went to HVMS, Miller made my life about as enjoyable as a box of rabbit poo that you thought was juicy raisins.

No Swifty's meant no job for Mom. No job meant no money to pay the rent on our house.

Los Toros and Mala Sangre

the sandpaper voice, was all but echoing between my ears. A prick and a prophet all at once. Sometimes shit happens in the dark.…

Anyway, I guess I should have seen it coming. It's like every time things start to look okay in my crazy life, something always comes along to change it. It's like it just falls out of

Dreams die hard. And sometimes they don't have to die at all.

Some days I hate everyone. But no one more than I hate myself.

Curt, my husband, is a writer, and he'll never write again. That's our funeral, as they say down south. Now in your case, my pet, you're married to a phenomenon of our own special epoch, a man who couldn't in a thousand years be a writer in the only meaning of the term, but who can and probably will write a book.