Quotes About Struggle

Give me, for my life, all lives, give me all the pain of everyone, I'm going to turn it into hope. Give me all the joys, even the most secret, because otherwise how will these things be known? I have to tell them, give me the labors of everyday, for that's what I sing.

I don't want to go on being a root in the dark, vacillating, stretched out, shivering with sleep, downward, in the soaked guts of the earth, absorbing and thinking, eating each day.

There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are. And we must pass through solitude and difficulty, isolation and silence in order to reach forth to the enchanted place where we can dance our clumsy dance and sing our sorrowful song - but in this dance or in this song there are fulfilled the most ancient rites of our conscience in the awareness of being human and of believing in a common destiny.

He who has nothing—it has been said many times—has nothing to lose but his chains.

If you should ask me where I've been all this time I have to say Things happen. I have to dwell on stones darkening the earth, on the river ruined in its own duration: I know nothing save things the birds have lost, the sea I left behind, or my sister crying. Why this abundance of places? Why does day lock with day? Why the dark night swilling round in our mouths? And why the dead?

A bibliophile of little means is likely to suffer often. Books don't slip from his hands but fly past him through the air, high as birds, high as prices.

Maybe someone will know I didn't weave crowns to draw blood; that I faught against mockery; that I did fill the high tide of my soul with truth. I repaid vileness with doves.

Soy el desesperado, la palabra sin ecos, el que lo perdiò todo, y el que todo lo tuvo.

ay,amar es un viaje con agua y con estrellas,con aire ahogado y bruscas tempestades de harina: amar es un combate de relámpagos y dos cuerpos por una sola miel derrotados -pablo neruda

porque en tu pecho austral están tatuadas la lucha, la esperanza, la solidaridad y la alegría como anclas que resisten las olas de la tierra.

My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose. I love what I do not have. You are so far. My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.

I f nothing saves us from death, may love at least save us from life.

Rechazada al caer, y sin forma obstinada.

Preguntaréis por qué su poesía no nos habla del sueño, de las hojas, de los grandes volcanes de su país natal? Venid a ver la sangre por las calles, venid a ver la sangre por las calles, venid a ver la sangre por las calles!

In you the wars and the flights accumulated, From you the wings of the songbirds rose.

Le déracinement pour l'être humain est une frustration qui, d'une manière ou d'une autre, atrophie la clarté de son âme.

In you I waver, fall and rise up burning. You among all beings have the right to see me weak.

Rise up with me against the organisation of misery.

È così ingiusta l'anima senza radici: rifiuta la bellezza che le offrono, cerca il suo disgraziato territorio e solo in esso il martirio e la pace.

My struggle is harsh and I come back with eyes tired at times from having seen the unchanging earth, but when your laughter enters it rises to the sky seeking me and it opens for me all the doors of life.

Each morning, each turbid morning of your lives you will have it steaming and burning at your tables: so as not to see it, not to digest it so many times: you will push it aside a bit between the bread and the grapes, this bowl of silent blood that will be there each morning, each morning. A

From one hell to another, what difference? In the howling of your legions, in the holy milk of the mothers of Spain, in the milk and the bosoms trampled along the roads, there is one more village, one more silence, a broken door. Here

Everyone is after me to exercise, get in shape, play football, rush about, even go swimming and flying. Fair enough. Everyone is after me to take it easy. They all make doctor's appointments for me, eyeing me in that quizzical way. What is it? Everyone is after me to take a trip, to come in, to leave, not to travel, to die and, alternatively, not to die It doesn't matter.

Porque o amor, enquanto a vida nos acossa, é simplesmente uma onda alta sobre as ondas.