Quotes About Struggle

Healthy in body and mind, I end my life before pitiless old age which has taken from me my pleasures and joys one after another; and which has been stripping me of my physical and mental powers, can paralyse my energy and break my will, making me a burden to myself and to others

The bourgeoisie, when it was struggling against the nobility sustained by the clergy, hoisted the flag of free thought and atheism; but once triumphant, it changed its tone and manner and today it uses religion to support its economic and political supremacy

Ä°çinde bulunduÄŸumuz ça??n çal??ma asr? olduÄŸu söyleniyor.Fakat asl?nda bu ac?,sefalet ve yozlaÅŸma asr?d?r!

All individual and social woes are born of passion for work.

Trabajad, trabajad, proletarios, para aumentar la fortuna social y vuestras miserias individuales; trabajad, trabajad para que, haciéndoos cada vez más pobres, tengáis más razón de trabajar y de ser miserables." (1848, 11) Paul Lafargue, The Right to Be Lazy

You gotta admit, it's a messed-up world when going to war is safer than staying home.

It is not a carol of joy or glee,But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core…I know why the caged bird sings!

It's easy 'nough to titter w'en de stew is smokin' hot,But hit's mighty ha'd to giggle w'en dey's nuffin' in de pot.

Since thou and those who died with thee for rightHave died, the Present teaches, but in vain!

A minute to smile and an hour to weep in, A pint of joy to a peck of trouble, And never a laugh but the moans come double; And that is life! A crust and a corner that love makes precious, With a smile to warm and the tears to refresh us; And joy seems sweeter when cares come after, And a moan is the finest of foils for laughter; And that is life!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,- When he beats his bars and would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core, But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings- I know why the caged bird sings!

A crust of bread and a corner to sleep in, A minute to smile and an hour to weep in, A pint of joy to a peck of trouble, And never a laugh but the moans come double; And that is life! A crust and a corner that love makes precious, With a smile to warm and the tears to refresh us; And joy seems sweeter when cares come after, And a moan is the finest of foils for laughter; And that is life!

A crust of bread and a corner to sleep in, A minute to smile and an hour to weep in, A pint of joy to a peck of trouble, And never a laugh but the moans come double; And that is life!

What you mean? Whaih you think Gawd is?' Joe remained sullenly silent. His mother's faith was too stalwart for his comprehension. There was nothing like it in his own soul to interpret it.

With torn and bleeding hearts we smile.

on his own shoulder and lumber down the aisle between thirty-foot-high

Life, I would later learn, is a raging river tumbling over jagged rocks, most of which are never seen. There are no signs warning of broken bones or broken promises or broken hearts. Some of us get knocked off our flimsy rafts. Others cling to the straps with utter desperation. Either way, the journey's end is the same. The river surges toward a roaring falls, unforgiving and unsurvivable.

Sure. I've been involved with a couple women who should have been committed.

True stories are full of holes. Life isn't a smooth freeway across a fruited plain. Life is a winding, pot-holed road, slick with oil, and studded with broken glass. It was one of Steve's laws. If a witness' testimony is too damn good, if there are no loose ends or contradictions, chances are his story is as phony as Donald Trump's hair.

Like a drowning man with a Styrofoam cooler.

The federal government is a ponderous battleship, weighed down by its own armor and slow to change course. But when it chooses to marshal its might against an individual, the government is a lean, mean, conviction machine. Meanwhile, the defendant's lawyer is a loinclothed Roman gladiator protected by a wooden shield, leather shin guards, and prayers to the god Jupiter. The Constitution promises due process but not a fair fight.

in articulo mortis

speed freaks with shotguns." His imagination worked up one horrific image after another. Bobby lost or injured. Bobby sold for half-a-dozen rocks of crack. The next day, Steve flew to Tallahassee, rented a car, and drove west through the

All of us live with our own demons, do penance in our private ways. We need our friends for support and advice, but we draw our strength from within. In the end we are alone.