Quotes About Struggle

Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate, down out of the depths of Time.

Then one can't make a living out of poetry? Certainly not. What fool expects to? Out of rhyming, yes.

Life? Bah! It has no value. Of cheap things it is the cheapest. Everywhere it goes begging. Nature spills it out with a lavish hand. Where there is room for one life, she sows a thousand lives, and it's life eats life till the strongest and most piggish life is left.

Freely the subject makes himself what he is, never in this life is the making finished, always it is in process, always it is a precarious achievement that can slip and fall and shatter.

I've been around and I've noticed that walking's easy when the road is flat; them danged ole hiils will get you every time. Yeah, the good Lord gave us mountains so we could learn how to climb.

I've been around and I've noticed that walking's easy when the road is flat; those big ol' hills will get you every time. The good Lord gave us mountains so we could learn how to climb.

Be still sad heart and cease repining; Behind the clouds the sun is shining, Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life a little rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.

Every man is in some sort a failure to himself. No one ever reaches the heights to which he aspires.

Each new epoch in life seems an encounter. There is a tussle and a cloud of dust, and we come out of it triumphant or crest-fallen, according as we have borne ourselves.

He is so poor that he could not keep a dog.

My dad had emphysema and both of my parents had chronic bronchitis and ended up with cancers - all smoking related.

The only enemy to fear is the enemy within, the demon that speaks in your own voice, the assassin in the mirror.

Tried to be someone I knew that I wasn't I thought I could make myself happy with you

In my mind I first felt like, Oh, I'll be back to work right after the babies are born. But then you don't want to. Even now, it's very difficult for me to leave them in the morning. It just tortures me. I'm like, It's been hours; are they wondering where I am? Do they know that I love them so much and I'm thinking only about them?

Where you really have your eggs in one basket and that breach happens and you know you should go but you're still in love and you just don't know what to do. It hits you because it's not like -- you're a cheater, and a liar, and I hate you, and you're no good, and I'm leaving. It's not that. It's like, I'm tormented. Even though you've done this and I know it, I still don't know what to do. I know I should go, but I don't want to. And that's why it's such a f***ed-up thing.

I pray. I go to mass. I even remember to respect my elders and help little old ladies across the street. What the hell did I do to deserve this?

A girl can stand just so much virtue.

Devoutly the teachers point out huge fumigated domes; but beneath the statues there's no love, no love beneath the eyes set in crystal. Love is there, in flesh ripped by thirst, in the tiny hut struggling against the flood; love is there, in ditches where snakes of hunger wrestle, in the sad sea that rocks dead gulls, and in the darkest stinging kiss under pillows.

The world is a shoulder of dark meat (black flesh of an old mule). And the light is on the other side.

The animosity of the defeated party is natural, manifest, and invincible.

I am about to be married, and am of course in all the misery of a man in pursuit of happiness.

Out of chaos God made a world, and out of high passions comes a people.

Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear.

Or, like the thief of fire from heaven, Wilt thou withstand the shock? And share with him, the unforgiven, His vulture and his rock!