Quotes About Struggle

Igual que seguía considerando que la gravedad es una fuerza que atrae las cosas hacia sí, y no una simple cuestión que se encarga de las que menos resistencia opongan a ella, estaba segura de que el carácter era una lucha entre las buenas y las malas intenciones.

Quizá su batalla para establecerse en Old House había terminado, o quizá se equivocaba al pensar que había encontrado su lugar o que podría encontrarlo alguna vez.

Una vez había visto volar por encima del estuario a una garza que intentaba, mientras estaba en el aire, tragarse una anguila que acababa de pescar. La anguila, a su vez, luchaba por escapar del gaznate de la garza, y se le veía un cuarto, la mitad o, en ocasiones, tres cuartos del cuerpo colgando. La indecisión que expresaban ambas criaturas era lastimosa. Se habían propuesto demasiado.

The Freifrau, meanwhile, struggled with the demon of timidity.

It was like one of those terrible sights of the racecourse or the battle field where wallowing living beings persevere dumbly in their duty although mutilated beyond repair.

Everyone has known what it's like to see their dreams crumble. But these women...have found something more stable to hang onto. They're not content and fulfilled because circumstances turned out the way they hoped, but because of their faith in a God who is above circumstance.

Life is a mess - a random muddle. Which is exactly why one is drawn to improving on it.

When the times are out of joint it is brought uncomfortably home to you that history is true and that unfortunately you are a part of it. One has this tendency to think oneself immune. This is one of the points when the immunity is shown up as fantasy. I'd rather like to go back to fantasising.

You plot, daily. Face down circumstance. Measure out your life with...not coffee spoons--pills. Line them up with breakfast, lunch, supper. Never mind mermaids, and lilacs in bloom, and all that stuff. He hadn't a clue.

Any book represents effort, struggle, work--I know, I write them myself--every book deserves attention, even if that ends with dismissal.

Claudia types. She has to pause from time to time to shake sand from the typewriter. She types partly from expediency and partly to exorcise what is now printed on her eyeballs. She tries to reduce to words what she has seen and thought. She types also because she is dog-tired, thirsty, aching and bad-tempered and if she does not occupy herself she might give away some of this, and be ashamed.

Anthropomorphism is unavoidable, I am finding, in writing about gardening: weeds don't just grow, they grow with intent, they grow aggressively. Well, they do, as any gardener knows. They sneak in and swarm up when your back is turned.

Calm down, she tells herself. Just because this has never happened to you before. Because you have reached the ripe age of thirty-one without knowing this peculiar derangement. For derangement is what it surely is; only by stern physical effort can she keep herself from looking at him, touching him.

Her face, suddenly, contorts. The lips pinch and tighten. A hand crawls across the sheet. Lisa says, 'Are you all right?' 'No, says Claudia. 'But who is?

It is as though I were adrift, untethered. I don't think of her much, no more than I ever did, but something terrible is going on. At moments all is well, and then at others I think that I am flying apart.

And who am I, that I should be asking you of all people for an easy life? As you think best then Lord, but only, give me patience when my own runs out...

Down the avenue of trees I can see a spot of sunlight. I'm trying so hard to get there.

Will you be all right? Heater on twice, color contrast down, and keep hitting buttons on the extractor fan until it stops or I go mad. I think I can manage that.

Trago em mim o inconciliável e é este o meu motor.

O brilho do diamante são as lágrimas dos trabalhadores da Companhia. A dureza do diamante é uma ilusão: não é mais que gotas de suor esmagadas pelas toneladas de terra que o cobrem.

João Evangelista estava farto de subdesenvolvimento.

Job was still in God's will even when he lost his children, wealth, and health.

There is always a Ziklag battle before a Zion victory.

Everyone and everything oppresses me, chokes and maddens me; I am troubled by a crushing physical sense of other people's lack of comprehension.