Quotes About Struggle

He thinks, tomorrow is another battle, tomorrow is another world.

The feeling around his heart—that it is crushed, forced out of shape—he now understands as a deformity caused by grief.

I tell you, dear Citizen Camille—it's not the deaths I can't stand. It's the judgements, the judgements in the courtroom.

it's just that you are practiced at persuading, and sometimes it's quite difficult, sir, to distinguish being persuaded by you from being knocked down in the street and stamped on.

It is not so important, what happens to the body. I have led in some ways a blessed life. God has been good and not tested me. Now he does I cannot fail him. I have been vigilant over my heart, and I have not always liked what I have found there. If it comes into the hands of the hangman at the last, so be it. It will be in God's hands soon enough.

But our secrets do not keep us. They worry at us; they wear us away, from the inside out.

We are vain and ambitious all the same, and we never do live quiet, because we rise in the morning and we feel the blood coursing in our veins and we think, by the Holy Trinity, whose head can I stamp on today? What worlds are at hand, for me to conquer? Or at the least we think, if God made me a crewman on his ship of fools, how can I murder the drunken captain, and steer it to port and not be wrecked?

Be reasonable, my lord. Once you.ve done it, you'll want to do it all the time. For about three years. That's the way it goes. And your father has other work in mind for you.

The day is a fiesta of pain.

You must thrive in spite of yourself; and so that you may do it, God takes out your heart of flesh, and gives you a heart of stone.

distraught. It seems he claims

What's ink in Whitehall is blood in the borderlands, what's a quibble in the law courts is a stabbing in the streets.

We say, how did it happen? We ask ourselves." The duke sniffs. "We ask ourselves, but by the steaming blood of Christ we have no bloody answer." The steaming blood of Christ. It's an oath worthy of Thomas Howard, the senior duke.

The harder you try to bind him by your deeds, the more he will detest you. I pity you, for there is no way forward for you. He will hate you for your successes as much as your failures.' Truth has done some thinking, while he has been locked away. He says, 'I make sure that my successes are the king's, while my failures are my own.

He feels he is in the torture chamber but he knows that one day he will find the door out, because it is he who has the key.

I, he thinks, who am so soiled in life's battle, so seamed and scarred, so numb, so unwanted, so cold.

She had built a little house for love, and it was flattened by one remark. Now she lives in the wreckage

There are people who find life hard and those who find it easy. There are those who have a natural, inbuilt, expectation of happiness, and there are those who feel that happiness is not to be expected: that is not, in fact, one of the rights of man. Nor, God knows, one of the rights of women.

Há para tudo uma estação: uma estação para passar fome e uma estação para roubar.

Henry looks irritated. He should not have to manage this. Cromwell is supposed to manage it for him. Ease out the Boleyns, ease in the Seymours. His business is more kingly: praying for the success of his enterprises, and writing songs for Jane.

All Hallow's Day: grief comes in waves. Now it threatens to capsize him.

pikemen were too poor for mail. We went in boiled leather which we hardened by prayer. We wore other men's boots.

He feels someone has attached a weight to his heart. Not a big weight: just a small leaden bob, so he feels the drag.

We are taxed till we cry, we must live till we die, we be looted and swindled and cheated and dwindled … O, Worse was it Never!