Quotes About Struggle

Maybe there was just the Devil, the real God of this lousy world.

She was sorry to have hurt her, but she wanted them all to leave her alone, let her keep it together. Kindness was the last thing she needed. She had to stay in the icy place, the numb place, and their warmth threatened to melt her just when she needed the cold.

He had loved her, but he hated himself more.

Her body felt like it'd been beaten with a hose. This must be what it felt like to get old. It wasn't that your body fell apart from living so long. It was that you had to take so many stompings from life that you'd be happy when the time came to close your eyes and never open them again.

The moon rose, squatting in the strained blue.

I felt just the way Billie Holiday sounded, like I'd cried all I could and it wasn't enough.

At times like this I surprise myself, how I've managed to create something of a life on this foggy shore out of the broken pieces of myself, scavenged from the sea like flotsam. Or is it jetsam…it irks me not to know the difference.

What did it mean, that the two people she loved best in the world hated each other? It was the sides of herself, irreconcilable.

Things touched Claire. Maybe too much, but at least they touched her. She couldn't twist things around in her mind, make the ends come out right.

I looked at my life and saw quite clearly that I was not surviving it in the turquoise house. I was letting my sails crust up with salt. I had to stop playing johnny johnny and concentrate on preparing for rain, preparing for rescue.

I suppose they cannot imagine what a person might be called upon to endure, when a line of poetry can mean the difference between strength and despair.

It was that you had to take so many stompings from life that you'd be happy when the time came to close your eyes and never open them ever again

I wanted to tell her not to entertain despair like this. Despair wasn't a guest, you didn't play its favorite music, find it a comfortable chair. Despair was the enemy.

This ragged heart," she said, pulling at her kimono. "I should rip it out and bury it for compost.

It was safer in here, there were rules and regular meals, professional care. Mac was a floor you could not fall below. I supposed the ex-cons who kept going back to prison felt the same way. "You

I'll tell you this: history is the sound of a floor underneath a rotten regime, termite-ridden and ready to fall. It groans. It smells like ozone before a storm.

I didn't want to remind her that I was the reason she was trapped in electric bills and kid's shoes grown too small, the reason she was clawing at the windows like Michaels dying tomatoes. She was a beautiful woman dragging a crippled foot and I was that foot. I was bricks sewn into the hem of her clothes, I was a steel dress.

Just a beginner, but he learned so fast. Everything came so damn easy to him. Not true. The hard things cam easy. But the easy things he found impossibly hard.

She was a beautiful woman dragging a crippled foot and I was that foot.

Despair wasn't a guest, you didn't play its favorite music, find it a comfortable chair. Despair was the enemy. It

How did I get so lost? Mother

She was a beautiful woman dragging a crippled foot and I was that foot. I was bricks sewn into the hem of her clothes, I was a steel dress. "What

I was bad, I had done bad things, I had hurt people, and the worst of it was, I didn't want to stop. Blue

It made me hopefully, like someday my life would make sense too, if I could just hold all the pieces together at the same time.