Quotes About Struggle

J'embrasse mon rival, mais c'est pour l'étouffer.

I cherished you inconstant; what would I have done, faithful? Now, even now, when your cruel mouth so calmly speaks my death sentence, I wonder, cold wretch, I wonder still, if I do not love you.

Twas easier to disarm the god of strength Than this Hippolytus, for Hercules Yielded so often to the eyes of beauty, As to make triumph cheap. ? Jean Racine, Phèdre

Do not expect me then to answer for A heart so little master of itself. He may, sir, in this frenzied turmoil wed The one he hates and spurn the one he loves.

The flames of Aphrodite maddened me; I loathed myself, and yearned outrageously like a starved wolf to fall upon the sheep.

Your universe has no meaning to them. They will not try to understand. They will be tired, they will be cold, they will make a fire with your beautiful oak door...

I would never be part of anything. I would never really belong anywhere, and I knew it, and all my life would be the same, trying to belong, and failing. Always something would go wrong. I am a stranger and I always will be, and after all I didn't really care.

If I was bound for hell, let it be hell. No more false heavens. No more damned magic. You hate me and I hate you. We'll see who hates best. But first, first I will destroy your hatred. Now. My hate is colder, stronger, and you'll have no hate to warm yourself. You will have nothing.

We can't all be happy, we can't all be rich, we can't all be lucky - and it would be so much less fun if we were... There must be the dark background to show up the bright colours.

Of course she had some pathetic illusions about herself or she would not be able to go on living.

The ideal, without doubt, varies, but its enemies, alas, are always the same.

Conner thought he understood how pride could back up in somebody, get turned around and come out as meanness. But that didn't make it any easier to put up with.

But it was hard not to think of her mother as she moved from the sink to the oven and back again, tasting and chopping and doing her best impersonation of her mother. She felt, not a presence, exactly. Something more earthbound, a better understanding, perhaps, of her mother and the life she lived. The endless small chores, the worries, never enough time, and always the barely movable obstacles of her husband and children.

You didn't give up wanting things because your life had put them out of reach.

We learn the rope of life by untying its knots.

But words is like th spots on dice: no matter how y fumbles em, there's times when they jes wont come.

Her body was tortured with something it could not let out.

It is very difficult, when there are those people who want power over other people and will stop at nothing to get it: it is very difficult for all the people who don't want power, except just power over themselves, to find a way of resisting it.

She didn't want to be miserable; no one wanted to be miserable. There were times when you just couldn't help it.

Almost as if—as if he regretted that they were civilised. As if he knew that they had to be, but wished it wasn't necessary. Or that there was some other way.

Mum used to say one shouldn't wish one's life away, but she could never have imagined anything like this.

Never ran this hard through the valley never ate so many stars I was carrying a dead deer tied on to my neck and shoulders deer legs hanging in front of me heavy on my chest People are not wanting to let me in Door in the mountain let me in

We have to remind ourselves constantly that we are not saviours. We are simply a tiny sign, among thousands of others, that love is possible, that the world is not condemned to a struggle between oppressors and oppressed, that class and racial warfare is not inevitable.

I came up with a pen and tablet hoping to write an immortal short story, but I've been having a dreadful time with my heroine— I CAN'T make her behave as I want her to behave; so I've abandoned her for the moment, and am writing to you.