Quotes About Struggle

No one escapes from a war. No one. Not even the survivors. You accept things that would appall you at any other time because life has temporarily lost all meaning.

Do you believe there's hope at the end?" I ask. "No," she says simply, looking away. "No, I don't, but I'm still going.

Whereas the town knows all about you already and wants to know more and wants to beat you with what it knows till how can you have any of yourself left at all?" ~pg 11

I think maybe everyone falls... I think the asking is whether we get back up again.

Life ain't fair. It ain't. Not never. It's pointless and stupid and there's only suffering and pain and people who want to hurt you. You can't love nothing or no one cuz it'll all be taken away or ruined and you'll be left alone and constantly having to fight, constantly having to run just to stay alive.

But how do you fight it?" Conor asked, his voice rough. "How do you fight all the different stuff inside?" By speaking the truth, the monster said. As you spoke it just now.

Oh, it was real, all right," she says. "We lived it; we were there. If you go through something and put up with it even if you want to get away from it more than anything in the whole world, then it was definitely bloody real.

The parson refused to believe the Apothecary could help, said the monster. When times were easy, the parson nearly destroyed the Apothecary, but when the going grew tough, he was willing to throw aside every belief if it would save his daughters. "So?" Conor said. "So would anyone! So would everyone ! What did you expect him to do?

Maybe it takes a devil to fight a devil," I said. "But at the end of that fight, Bathsheba," he said, "don't only devils remain?

You're never more alive than in battle." "Never more dead after," I say. "Ah, philosophy," he smiles. "I didn't know you had it in you.

I hate myself so much I want to stick a knife in my heart.

Through Hell or high water." "It'll probably be both.

I hate myself. I feel like an idiot saying it because, blah, blah, teen angst, boo hoo, but I do. I hate myself. Almost all the time. I try not to tell anyone because I don't want to burden them, but I feel like I'm falling farther and farther away from them. Like the well's getting deeper and I'm running out of energy to climb it and any minute now, any second , it's going to stop being worth even trying.

Maybe probably ain't all that comforting a word when it's maybe yer not dying.

Never invisible again , the monster said, finally letting up, its huge branch-like fists curled tight as a clap of thunder. It turned to Conor. But there are harder things than being invisible , it said.

At her core, she was broken, and life was just one long attempt to distract people from noticing

What else do men think about except sex and enemies?

And maybe it takes a terrorist to fight a terrorist.

But this, all this, isn't the story I'm trying to tell. This is all past. This is the part of your life where it gets taken over by other people's stories and there's nothing you can do about it except hold on tight and hope you're still alive at the end to take up your own story again. So that's what we did. Me, Mel, and Meredith all moved on, and we're the stories we're living now. Aren't we?

Superior numbers versus superior firepower. A recipe for unending slaughter.

People break, I guess. Everyone.

Let the battle for peace commence

I was born into all that, all that mess, the over-crowded swamp and the over-crowded sematary and the not-crowded-enough town, so I don't remember nothing, don't remember a world without Noise. My pa died of sickness before I was born and then my ma died, of course, no surprises there. Ben and Cillian took me in, raised me. Ben says my ma was the last of the women but everyone says that about everyone's ma. Ben may not be lying, he believes it's true, but who knows?

You said war should never be personal, but that's all it's ever been for me.