Quotes About Struggle

Nu vorbea decât de dragoste, agitând bombe. Aprindea ruguri, dar nu voia s? vad? decât lumina lor.

Oare dispare vreodat? complet, în ceea ce este frumos ?i în ceea ce este r?u, în ceea ce este viu ?i în ceea ce este mort, povara zdrobitoare a trecutului?

Eu sunt mai aproape de tata: el î?i punea speran?ele într-o schimbare bazat? pe amintire. M? împart, ca el, între aceste dou? lumi apuse, pline de str?lucire ?i de for??: schimbarea ?i amintirea. ?i, între una ?i alta, refuz s? aleg.

Timpul aducea cu el toate lucrurile care ne distrugeau ?i de care ne temeam: uzura, del?sarea, schimbarea, declinul ?i uitarea.

On gratte, on gratte, et puis très vite on respire mal, on sue, il commence à faire terriblement chaud

It's a bit traumatic," she noted, "to see your father, who took long walks with you, sailed with you, could out-jump you, and suddenly you look up and you see him walking on crutches—trying, struggling in heavy steel braces. And you see the sweat down his face, and you hear him saying, 'I must get down the driveway today—all the way down the driveway.

When her husband recovered, it was to shout abusively at her…. Later, when she reflected on it throughout the tedious courtroom proceedings, she realized this was the moment she had irrevocably determined to divorce her husband.

This guy is a real pain. I want to remind him that we're the good guys. We're not up at 4 a.m. because we like the way it feels.

What I did not yet know so intensely was the hatred of the white American for the black, a hatred so deep that I wonder if every white man in this country, when he plants a tree, doesn't see Negroes hanging from its branches.

Y]ou're in a fog. When you circle round, you watch us live. You watch us struggle and you're envious.

In one of them I am sixteen or seventeen years old. I am wearing, under a jacket of the Assistance Publique, a torn sweater. My face is an oval, very pure; my nose is smashed, flattened by a punch in some forgotten fight. The look on my face is blasé, sad and warm, very serious. My hair was thick and unruly. Seeing myself at that age, I expressed my feelings almost aloud: "Poor little fellow, you've suffered.

In space, she kept devising new and barbaric forms for herself, for she sensed intuitively that immobility makes it too easy for God to get you in a good wrestling hold and carry you off. So she danced. While walking. Everywhere.

En prison on ferme plus de portes qu'on n'en ouvre.

In her garret, Divine lived only on tea and grief.

It would seem logical to pray to the devil, but no thief would dare do so seriously. To come to terms with him would be to commit oneself too deeply. He is too opposed to God, who, we know, is the final victor. A murderer himself would not dare pray to the devil.

After the drama, he had to live in the tragedy.

She was in Spain, I believe. Kids were chasing her and screaming 'Maricona' and throwing stones at her.

Als er iets mis gaat, (...) gaat mijn geest, zodra ik, maar even de tijd krijg, (...), aan het werk om mij de al te wrede werkelijkheid te maskeren. Zo snel mogelijk maak ik voor mezelf een wereld waarin ik hofjonker ben, prins, koning of scheepsjongen (...). Het is alsof een handle wordt overgehaald en een valluik zich opent, waardoor ik in een fantasiewereld stort die wraak neemt. (...) het kan ook zijn dat in het dromen mijn roeping ligt.

Limited by the world, which I oppose, jagged by it, I shall be all the more handsome and sparkling as the angles which wound me and give me shape are more acute and the jagging more cruel.

Everything here was mean and dirty, the people ate worms.

She no longer rubbed shoulders with clouds and heights, sunset and dawn, but with men stinking of goat.

n'a plus la certitude qu'on va gagner, dans cette lutte contre la méchanceté des collines.

Je vais te dire le secret; c'est tout sucré, comme un mort. « II y a trop de sang, autour de nous. « Il y a dix trous, il y a cent trous, dans des chairs, dans du bois vivant, par où le sang et la sève coulent sur le monde comme une Durance. « Il y a cent trous, il y a mille trous que nous avons faits, nous, avec nos mains.

On ne se refait pas; il faut s'utiliser tel qu'on est. Ça ne s'adapte pas toujours. De là les peines.