Quotes About Struggle

Churches thrive on martyrdom and persecution.

Cast me into a dungeon;, burn me at the state, crown me king of kings, I can 'pursue happiness' as long as my brain lives -- but neither gods nor saints, wise men nor subtle drugs, can insure that I will catch it.

No matter what I said they insisted on thinking of God as something outside themselves. Something that yearns to take every indolent moron to His breast and comfort him. The notion that the effort has to be their own . . . and that the trouble they are in is all their own doing . . . is one that they can't or won't entertain.

Victory in defeat, there is none higher. She didn't give up, Ben; she's still trying to lift that stone after it has crushed her. She's a father working while cancer eats away his insides, to bring home one more pay check. She's a twelve-year-old trying to mother her brothers and sisters because mama had to go to Heaven. She's a switchboard operator sticking to her post while smoke chokes her and fire cuts off her escape. She's all the unsung heroes who couldn't make it but never quit.

The best things in life are beyond money; their price is agony and sweat and devotion

People who go broke in a big way never miss any meals. It is the poor jerk who is shy a half slug who must tighten his belt.

How is a sincere criminal, trying hard, going to get ahead in his profession if his victim fails to cooperate?

Do not handicap your children by making their lives easy.

But one way or another competing and weeding takes place . . . or a race goes downhill.

They insisted on thinking of God as something outside themselves. Something that yearns to take every indolent moron to His breast and comfort him. The notion that the effort has to be their own, and that the trouble they are in is all their own doing, is one that they can't or won't entertain.

Cast me into a dungeon, burn me at the stake, crown me king of kings, I can 'pursue happiness' as long as my brain lives—but neither gods nor saints, wise men nor subtle drugs, can insure that I will catch it.

government is a living organism. Like every living thing its prime characteristic is a blind, unreasoned instinct to survive. You hit it, it will fight back.

Revolution is an amateur thing for almost everybody;

I've been broke even oftener than I've been wealthy. Of the two, being broke is more interesting, as a man who doesn't know where his next meal is coming from is never bored. He may be angry or several other things—but not bored. His predicament sharpens his thoughts, spurs him into action, adds zest to his life, whether he knows it or not.

There is no way that writers can be tamed and rendered civilized or even cured. The only solution known to science is to provide the patient with an isolation room, where he can endure the acute stages in private and where food can be poked in to him with a stick.

sometimes there just isn't any cure for a situation.

An apostate scientist, a kidnapped scientist, a dull peasant, a two-headed monster, an apple-brained moron -- five knives, counting Joe-Jim as one; five brains, counting Joe-Jim as two and Bobo as none -- five brains and five knives to overthrow an entire culture.

Men on the surface of a planet are as helpless against men in spaceships as a man would be trying to conduct a rock-throwing fight from the bottom of a well. The man at the top of the well has gravity working for him.

If you boys and girls had to sweat for your toys the way a newly born baby has to struggle to live you would be happier . . . and much richer. As it is, with some of you, I pity the poverty of your wealth.

Young man, can you restore my eyesight?" "Sir? Why, no, sir!" "You would find it much easier than to instill moral virtue—social responsibility—into a person who doesn't have it, doesn't want it, and resents having the burden thrust on him.

The long knives made short work.

Correct or not, he felt himself to be a useless pensioner, an impotent object of charity.

Democrats were being rounded up, sentenced by drumhead courts-martial (provost's tribunals, they were called) and executed on the spot—laser, gunfire, some hangings.

Unable to digest it, they had taken refuge in anger at Einstein. Their refuge had been a dead end; all that inflexible old guard could do was die and let younger minds take over.