Quotes About Struggle

Tu veux savoir ce qu'il faut faire, et tu ne connais pas seulement le monde où tu vis. Tu comprends que quelque chose est contre toi, et tu ne sais pas quoi.

on leur a coupé le bout de la langue pour qu'ils ne puissent plus chanter le cantique.

Il s'appelait le Louis. Crevé, fin crevé. La gerbe tremblait au bout de sa fourche, et toujours à s'en prendre au bon dieu. Comme si c'était lui, le responsable ! Au fond, c'était peut-être la première fois qu'il travaillait.

Nous avons lutté contre le corps de la colline, il faut écraser la tête.

That road, as it turned out, would be even lonelier than she had reason to fear.

He lacked any musicality, for example; that was a disappointment. He lacked a kind of easy friendliness he could see in other people. Finally, and especially after the accident, he lacked a sense of fully inhabiting his own life, as if he were still, somehow, tumbling through that tumbling air. On it swirled around him as he struggled to right himself, and sometimes fought a powerful urge for it to simply stop. That was the biggest deficit of all. That impacted everything.

always on the edge of some beautiful redemption.

The answer was no longer of any concern, only its attendant truth, which she'd figured out years ago and had never once questioned: her mother loathed her, and probably always had. What was she supposed to do with such information? Exactly.

We endured. Hour after hour we endured, while inside us life's scream ran on, unstoppable. When the stars began imperceptibly to fade, we were still there, still breathing, and our father was still dead beside us, his face both sharp and slumped.

It's a physical urge, stronger than thirst or sex. Halfway back on the left side of my head there is a spot that longs for the jolt of a bullet, that yearns for that fire, that final empty rip. I want to be let out of this cavern, to open myself up to the ease of not-living. I am tired of sorrow and struggle and worry. I am tired of my sad sister. I want to turn out the last light.

I get so scared, I can't stop it. It's like black waves, and I'm a little cork. I bob to the surface and think I'll do okay, and then another wave comes and I'm drowning again." I

It is not reason which makes faith hard, but life.

Slaves lose everything in their chains, even the desire of escaping from them.

Even though a number of people have tried, no one has ever found a way to drink for a living.

The explosion of the grenade in his dug-out made him take leave of the Greco-Latin-Christian civilized world. When he regained consciousness he was on the other side... among the Communists.

It's always a mere handful of men who account for the masses, and nothing great, alas, has ever emerged from peace, neither a nation- as Amar has just pointed out- nor a great work. Peace has always been the reign of mediocrities, and pacifism the bleating of a herd of sheep which allow themselves to be led to the slaughter-house with defending themselves.

He's part me and part Clan, and so is Ura. Or rather, she's part Oda and part that man who killed her baby.

Wanting to feel safe all of the time can also lead to wanting to protect against emotional upset—the concern with "emotional safety" somewhat unique to iGen. That can include preventing bad experiences, sidestepping situations that might be uncomfortable, and avoiding people with ideas different from your own. That's where things get dicey—both for iGen and for the older generations struggling to understand them.

Sorrows gather around great souls as storms do around mountains but, like them, they break the storm and purify the air of the plain beneath them.

Every man has a rainy corner of his life whence comes foul weather which follows him.

And, what is more, we know how an all-consuming passion for freedom in the world never fails to lead to conflicts and wars which are no less consuming.

And there he lay in his bed, a broken man, worn out by a way of life which had been thrust upon him because of the antics of a wayward pig.

Her fault had been in trying to keep it as tight as a mistress might. All a wife needed was a little more subtlety, and it had taken her two years of doubts and nightmares to realize this. Let him wander away from her, let him dally with others--it would but be to compare them with his incomparable queen.

My only hope lies in my despair.