Quotes About Struggle

Communism is a hatred of the poor for the rich—not simply an envy.

It seems that life, in order to maintain itself, must revolt every so often against man's ceaseless attempts to master its irrational forces with his mind.

his fate stirs us only because it might have been our own fate ; because the oracle has cursed us prior to our birth, as it did him, [...] our dreams convince us of this truth. (Dream Interpretation: Edipus, by. Freud)

The world never leaves one in ignorance or in peace.

And I knew that she said truly; for indeed to live only to know the pains, the needs, the agonies, and the travails that lie in living, is a hard fate, though it be the fate of millions.

Will you take me home with you ?" I ventured to ask, emboldened by his honest kind eyes. "I have no home," ho said mournfully, "otherwise I would. I sleep under bridge-arches, or doorways, or anywhere I can; where I am not hunted away" "But that must be very miserable?" "Yes, it is miserable. But there are tens of thousands of human creatures that do*the same. I must not complain.

I have danced the fandango; no more able to help myself when the girl and the castanets began, than the holy cardinals, who, when they came to Madrid to excommunicate the cachuca, ended by joining in it! Like the rest of us, I suppose, they found forbidding a thing to other people, very easy and pleasant, but going without it themselves rather more difficult.

I wonder now that I did not die; but if everything died that is full of wretchedness, your world would soon have but a sparse peopling.

So, on the whole, it was well with them, very well; and Patrasche, meeting on the highway or in the public streets the many dogs who toiled from daybreak into nightfall, paid only with blows and curses, and loosened from the shafts with a kick to starve and freeze as best they might — Patrasche in his heart was very grateful to his fate, and thought it the fairest and the kindliest the world could hold.

Daily bread," muttered the handsome girl. "It's main and fine what He do gie us, niver a bit o' wheat-loaf mayhap for weeks and weeks togither 1" But she muttered it under her breath, and she did not dare let him hear it. I heard it; but then dogs hear and see a great many things to which men, in their arrogance and their stupidity, arc deaf and blind.

us were able to do so. Our eating may be out of control

Whatever the case, after years of making vows and saying prayers but then eating compulsively again, we were left without faith that God could restore us to sanity about food. We believed intellectually that God could do anything, but deep in our hearts we "knew" God couldn't help us with this area of our lives. It was this negative concept about God we had to change if we were to find recovery.

There is no such thing as pure pleasure; some anxiety always goes with it.

Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast, and is forced to multiply its strength.

Here shame dissuades him, there his fear prevails, And each by turns his aching heart assails.

Every lover is a soldier and has his camp in Cupid.

Envy assails the noblest: the winds howl around the highest peaks.

I see and approve better things, but follow worse.

Minds that are ill at ease are agitated by both hope and fear.

Love is a kind of warfare.

I am the poet of the poor, because I was poor when I loved; since I could not give gifts, I gave words.

I am dragged along by a strange new force. Desire and reason are pulling in different directions. I see the right way and approve it, but follow the wrong.

Every lover is a soldier.

Evidence not of imperial glory, but of complete cultural failure and betrayal by men who insisted on importing their environment with them, rather than adapting to a new one in which they found themselves struggling to survive.