Quotes About Struggle

I've made it this far without crying a single tear and I'd sure hate to break down here.

When Paul went to prison, I cried at first. Not for Paul but for me. Then I started to behave strangely. Wild. Restless.

It's now six a.m. and I'm smoking. Oh yeah, Tracey: it's all going so fucking well. The lonely princess. Carbon monoxide is feeding my soul.

A mad desire to be more human, to be more normal, that's what pushes me, these days – but as someone said the other day. "Trace, you're going to have to face facts. You and normal, parted a long, long time ago.

Our family has gone through a very difficult time. My husband and I have taken the brunt of it. I've never known what it truly felt like to be so sad and desperate inside.

My ma always told me that when I found things were too hard to figure out, I could probably bet that I hadn't prayed on it first.

Folks make a terrible mistake when they put themselves in the devil's company and think they can outwit him. He's crafty and wants to eat you alive.

William needs a good woman in his life. The war was hard on him. He had no heart for it.

bottoming out for cotton. But these things do tend to

as he grew older trust came harder. Ma had said that was Satan's way of trying to wiggle into a young Christian's heart. Satan liked to attack before a fellow could make his faith strong enough to stand the tests of life. That was why God gave children God-fearing parents and other adults of Christian faith. "Those who have fought the good fight for longer in life are able to pray and encourage those who are weak

The brutality of war could damage even the best of men.

My father used to say that opression isn't a finite state. It's a weight that is carried until it becomes too heavy, and then it is thrown off. Not without struggle, not without pain, but he believed the weight would always, always be fought and overcome.

oppression isn't a finite state. It's a weight that is carried until it becomes too heavy, and then it is thrown off.

Nothing seems to fit anymore. I can't be Aristos, but I don't think I'm Aris either. I don't know who I am." She was lost. Dianthe grabbed her knee. "You are a woman who gave up everything to defend her dominion. You are a flyer." Aris

Some folks call her a runaway. A failure in the race. But she knows where her ticket takes her. She will find her place in the sun

I slowed my pace. Years of hauling water, wringing out clothes, scrubbing floors, emptying chamber pots, with no chance of beauty or color or light in my life, stretched before me like a landscape of flat land where, a long way off, the sea is visible but can never be reached.

To survive is to exist in spite of adversity.

They saw the ordered concrete and steel of postwar United States showing stress fractures and were determined to bring it down and break free.

When some people talk about money They speak as if it were a mysterious lover Who went out to buy milk and never Came back, and it makes me nostalgic For the years I lived on coffee and bread, Hungry all the time, walking to work on payday Like a woman journeying for water From a village without a well, then living One or two nights like everyone else On roast chicken and red wine.

while the father storms through adjacent rooms ranting with the force of kingdom come, not caring anymore what might snap us in its jaw

we like to think of it as parallel to what we know only bigger. one man against the authorities. or one man against a city of zombies. one man who is not, in fact, a man, sent to understand the caravan of men now chasing him like red ants let loose down the pants of america. man on the run.

Sometimes, small minds seem to take the day. Election fraud. A migratory plague. Less and less surprises us as odd.

Is this some enigmatic type of test? What if we Fail? How and to whom do we address our appeal?

What does living do to any of us?