Quotes About Struggle

Marty coughed and spat a dark mass. Tears burned his eyes. The darkness grew darker. "No... help me!" And then

Oh God, oh God..." Dana chanted

Unlike him, she can feel the draw of the Chasm and its incredible, primeval power. The Force is in turmoil within her. She feels sick.

Life is a challenge, and facing that challenge is what makes the good great.

Everything he had dreamed of for so long had happened. And it was terrible.

Yeah. Blood. Sweat. Mmm." She

Hell is people," she said. "What?" "An old android saying," she replied.

That she did this for Weyland-Yutani troubled her, but she would never have come this far without them. Their resources were limitless.

Jean] had the guts to kill herself, and I admire her for it, although, of course, she was quite crazy at the time, with a brain misfiring like a cross-wired laptop. Pressing the keystrokes love , the screen read die . Pressing the keystrokes survive , the screen read die . The damn thing, her mind-machine, was shot.

Loving a man shouldn't have to be this rough

Beyond the picket fences and the oil wells, the happy endings, and the fairy tales, is the reality of shattered lives and broken dreams. We carry on.

Sometimes, I am my own worst enemy.

They carried the sky. The whole atmosphere, they carried it, the humidity, the monsoons, the stink of fungus and decay, all of it, they carried gravity.

They carried all they could bear, and then some, including a silent awe for the terrible power of the things they carried.

I survived, but it's not a happy ending.

It was very sad, he thought. The things men carried inside. The things men did or felt they had to do.

He wished he could've explained some of this. How he had been braver than he ever thought possible, but how he had not been so brave as he wanted to be. The distinction was important.

I was a coward. I went to the war.

What wonderful minds we have, even though they don't seem to get us anywhere, or make us happy.

Freedom, what crimes are committed in thy name.

the Irish... qualities are hidden, besmirched, by that what has been imposed upon us, just as the fine, splendid surface of Ireland is besmirched by our towns and villages

It was far from good enough for de Valera, Brugha and Stack.

For as the poets and the warriors fell by the wayside the bureaucrats took over.

The evidence, however, appears to be inescapable that, the civil war won