Quotes About Struggle

O! Let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven; keep me in temper; I would not be mad!

It puzzles the will.

These times of woe afford no time to woo.

Our wills and fates do so contrary run, that our devices still are overthrown; our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.

I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire.

Mañana, y mañana, y mañana se arrastra con paso mezquino día tras día hasta la sílaba final del tiempo escrito, y la luz de todo nuestro ayer guió a los bobos hacia el polvo de la muerte. ¡Apágate, apágate breve llama! La vida es una sombra que camina, un pobre actor que en escena se arrebata y contonea y nunca más se le oye. Es un cuento que cuenta un idiota, lleno de ruido y de furia, que no significa nada.

La vida es mi tortura y la muerte será mi descanso.

He hath disgrac'd me and hind'red me half a million; laugh'd at my losses, mock'd at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated my enemies. And what's his reason? I am a Jew.

If love be rough with you, be rough with love

Come, sir, come, I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love. Look, here I have you, thus I let you go, And give you to the gods.

This world's a city full of straying streets, and death's the market-place where each one meets.

The time is out of joint—O cursèd spite, That ever I was born to set it right!

Why, that is nothing: for I tell you, father, I am as peremptory as she proud-minded; And where two raging fires meet together They do consume the thing that feeds their fury: Though little fire grows great with little wind, Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all: So I to her and so she yields to me; For I am rough and woo not like a babe.

Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us yet: suffer us to famish, and their storehouses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich, and provide more piercing statutes daily to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.

You think I'll weep? No, I'll not weep. Storm and tempest. I have full cause of weeping, but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or e're I'll weep.—O Fool, I shall go mad.

O! how shall summer's honey breath hold out, / Against the wrackful siege of battering days?

The world is grown so bad that wrens make pray where eagles dare not perch

O, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, That I did never, no, nor never can, Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, But you must flout my insufficiency?

I 'gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish th' estate o' th' world were now undone.

To sue to live, I find I seek to die; And, seeking death, find life.

I'll find a day to massacre them all And raze their faction and their family, The cruel father and his traitorous sons, To whom I sued for my dear son's life, And make them know what 'tis to let a queen Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.

Give thanks for what you are today and go on fighting for what you gone be tomorrow

My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives.