Quotes About Struggle

I am still corrupted by the condiment of the world.

Give me your anonymous hand, for life is giving me pain and I don't know how to go on talking - reality is too delicate, only reality is delicate, my unreality and my imagination are more substantial.

The most profound of murders: one that is a mode of relating, a way of one being existing the other being, a way of our seeing each other and being each other and having each other, a murder where there is neither victim nor executioner but instead a link of mutual ferocity. My primary struggle for life. "Lost in the Fiery Hell of a Canyon a Woman Struggles Desperately for Life.

Perhaps in arriving at the foundation of his grief and loneliness, immediate death or immediate life were the only choices within reach. He chose to live. From his rock bottom loneliness emerged a new life and a real self was restored.

Byrd anticipated the crisis of loneliness. What he had not counted on was how closely a man could come to dying and still not die or want to die.

Often, I thought: "Surely this is it. He has reached the breaking point." He seemed at the very end of his power and resources. But he kept coming until I wondered whether I had not reached the breaking point. The only thing that kept me going was the certainty that without me there would be no one.

We have demonized the dark along with half of what is good within us, and half of the human race besides.

The science of life… is a superb and dazzlingly lighted hall which may be reached only by passing through a long and ghastly kitchen.

Someone, and no matter who, inhabits my head like it's an empty house, he enters, he leaves, he bangs each door behind him, powerless I put up with this ruckus. Someone, and maybe it's me, palms my most private thoughts, he crumples them, returns them to dust. Someone, and it's much later now, slowly walks across the room and, not seeing me, stops to contemplate the havoc. Someone, and no matter where, collects the pieces of my shadow.

Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack,Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!

If we must die, let it not be like hogsHunted and penned in an inglorious spot.

Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth,Stealing my breath of life, I must confessI love this cultured hell that tests my youth!Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,Giving me strength erect against her hate.Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.

The Europeans fight to exterminate us and call it civilizing us.

Your door is shut against my tightened face, And I am sharp as steel with discontent; But I possess the courage and the grace To bear my anger proudly and unbent.

I'm not performing miracles, I'm using up and wasting a lot of paint...

No one but myself knows the anxiety I go through and the trouble I give myself…

Yearning is not only a good way to go crazy but also a pretty good place to hide out from hard truth.

Donde empiezan la inquietud y la perturbación, la tristeza buena deja el lugar a la mala.

Por eso el demonio hace grandes esfuerzos para producir en nosotros esa mala tristeza y, para conseguir desalentar al alma y desesperarla, intenta antes que nada perturbarla.

Being an old maid is a little bit like drowning. A really delightful sensation once you give up the struggle.

There's a kind of terrible stress that makes you eat three pieces of coconut cake, but there's an even more terrible kind of stress where you can't bear the thought of eating anything at all" -Autumn

Claudia Mills

La vida es una sucesión de actos miserables interrumpidos por unos pocos y pequeños actos heroicos, y es en el promedio de todos ellos donde logramos sentirnos dignos. Donde queremos que al menos un testigo nos sepa dignos. Aunque no lo seamos.

Elena siempre fue de llorar poco, casi nada, pero desde que su cuerpo es de Ella, de esa puta enfermedad puta, ya ni siquiera es dueña de sus lágrimas.