Quotes About Struggle

depression, which can be as serious a medical affair as diabetes or cancer.

On Major Depression, quoted by the great William Styron of Sophie's Choice & Darkness Visible: From Darkness Visible, William Styron It is a positive and active anguish, a sort of psychical neuralgia, wholly unknown to normal life.

No, I wasn't trying to make Nat Turner look stupid. I was trying to make him more human. More like me. Angry, impotent, confused about his own sexuality. Wait a minute, that didn't come out right. Is that microphone really on?

Yet if she did not quite exist in the full flood of sunlight, which is the hackneyed metaphor for good health, she was comfortably and safely far away from that abyssal darkness down into which she had nearly strayed.

While I was able to rise and function almost normally during the earlier part of the day, I began to sense the onset of the symptoms at midafternoon or a little later- -gloom crowding in on me, a sense of dread and alienation and, above all, stifling anxiety.

An extermination center can only manufacture corpses; a society of total domination creates a world of the living dead...

And when white men in they hate an' wrath an' meanness fetches blood from that beautiful black skin then, oh then, my brothers, it is time not fo' laughing but fo' weeping an' rage an' lamentation! Pride!" I cried after a pause, and let my arms descend. "Pride, pride, everlasting pride, pride will make you free!

The libido also made an early exit, as it does in most major illnesses—it is the superfluous need of a body in beleaguered emergency.

In the middle of the journey of our life I found myself in a dark wood, For I had lost the right path.

In Paris on a chilly evening late in October of 1985 I first became fully aware that the struggle with the disorder in my mind--a struggle which had engaged me for several months--might have a fatal outcome.

To make matters worse, I was out of a job and had very little money and was self-exiled to Flatbush—like others of my countrymen, another lean and lonesome Southerner wandering amid the Kingdom of the Jews.

Such was the vainglory of a black boy who may have been alone among his race in bondage to have actually read pages from Sir Walter Scott and who knew the product of nine multiplied by nine, the name of the President of the United States, the existence of the continent of Asia, the capital of the state of New Jersey, and could spell words like Deuteronomy, Revelation, Nehemiah, Chesapeake, Southampton, and Shenandoah.

one of the most unendurable aspects of such an interlude was the inability to sleep (...) the disruption of normal sleep patterns is a notoriously devastating feature of depression (...). It had become clear that I would never be granted even a few minutes' relief from my full-time exhaustion.

loss. Loss in all of its manifestations is the touchstone of depression—in the progress of the disease and, most likely, in its origin

In my career as a writer I have always been attracted to morbid themes—suicide, rape, murder, military life, marriage, slavery.

outrageously at his temples (by then his need to do something had become like a panic, a fierce drive up ward and outward from his self that had begun to cut like flame through the boozy dreamland, the nit-picking, the inertia, the navel-gazing), said loudly and impatiently: "What do you mean there is not a hope in the world?

sense of the triumph of life over death is at the core of The Myth of Sisyphus with its austere message: in the absence of hope we must still struggle to survive, and so we do—by the skin of our teeth.

la negra noche del alma humana cuando millones de inocentes sufrían y morían bajo la dominación nazi.

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, Ché la diritta via era smarrita. In the middle of the journey of our life I found myself in a dark wood, For I had lost the right path.

How simultaneously enfeebling and insulting is an empty page! Devoid

Bloody and bowed by the outrages of life, most human beings still stagger on down the road, unscathed by real depression. To discover why some people plunge into the downward spiral of depression, one must search beyond the manifest crisis—and then still fail to come up with anything beyond wise conjecture.

O Lord God of my salvation, I have cried day and night before thee: Let my prayer come before thee: incline thine ear unto my cry; For my soul is full of troubles...

Most people in the grip of depression at its ghastliest are, for whatever reason, in a state of unrealistic hopelessness, torn by exaggerated ills and fatal threats that bear no resemblance to actuality.

A phenomenon that a number of people have noted while in deep depression is the sense of being accompanied by a second self—a wraithlike observer who, not sharing the dementia of his double, is able to watch with dispassionate curiosity as his companion struggles against the oncoming disaster, or decides to embrace it.