Quotes About Struggle

In every battle, there is a death. The loser may laugh it off if the war is short and sweet and without cost. Or the loser may bleed out, if the war is to the death.

This child, who is grasping the stone, facing the tank, is it not the greatest message to the world when that hero becomes a martyr? We are proud of them.

Today I come bearing an olive branch in one hand, and the freedom fighter's gun in the other. Do not let the olive branch fall from my hand. I repeat, do not let the olive branch fall from my hand.

The victory march will continue until the Palestinian flag flies in Jerusalem and in all of Palestine.

In order to obtain the goal of returning to Palestine, all of us sometimes have to grit our teeth.

I come bearing an olive branch in one hand, and the freedom fighter's gun in the other. Do not let the olive branch fall from my hand.

Peace for us means the destruction of Israel. We are preparing for an all-out war, a war which will last for generations.

A poetess who had died young of cancer had said in one of her poems that for her, on sleepless nights, 'the night offers toads and black dogs and corpses of the drowned.

You see, our hard-earned saving are always going to be taken away from us by someone - whether we have any or not.

All of my works are steps on my journey, a struggle for truth that I have waged with pen, canvas, and materials. Overhead is a distant, radiant star, and the more I stretch to reach it, the further it recedes. But by the power of my spirit and my single-hearted pursuit of the path, I have clawed my way through the labyrinthine confusion of the world of people in an unstinting effort to approach even one step closer to the realm of the soul.

What portion in the world can the artist have, Who has awakened from the common dream, But dissipation and despair?

The desire that is satisfied is not a great desire, nor has the shoulder used all its might that an unbreakable gate has never strained.

For those that love the world serve it in action, Grow rich, popular, and full of influence; And should they paint or write still is it action, The struggle of the fly in marmalade.

It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much labouring.

God has pity on kindergarten children.He has less pity on school children.And on grownups he has no pity at all,he leaves them alone,and sometimes they must crawl on all foursin the burning sandto reach the first-aid stationcovered with blood.

Sorrow happens, hardship happens, the hell with it, who never knew the price of happiness, will not be happy.

How can the confessor teach/ those who are lost and sick at heart,/ when he himself, among the sinners,/ is worst, and most forsaken?/ It is only a game we play/ with other people's sins./ Besides, everyone knows/ that everyone lies confessing.

They tell me, shaking their heads: "You should be kinder. You are somehow furious". I used to be kind. It didn't last long.

You're afraid of it because it's stronger than you, you hate it because you're afraid of it, you love it because you can't master it. You can only love something that refuses to be mastered.

Yesterday, there was a Tzar and there were slaves. Today, there is no Tzar, but the slaves are still here. Tomorrow there will be only Tzars. We walk forward in the name of the free man of tomorrow, the Tzar of tomorrow. We have gone through the epoch when the masses were oppressed. We are now going through the epoch when the individual is oppressed in the name of the masses.

But why is it that within me "I don't want to" and "I want to" stand side by side? That is the chief horror of the matter; I continue to long for that happy death of yesterday. The horror of it is that even now, when I have integrated the logical function, when it becomes evident that that function contains death hidden within it, still I long for it with my lips, my arms, my heart, with every millimeter....

You're in bad shape. It looks like you're developing a soul.

I am like a machine being driven to excessive rotations: the bearings are incandescing and, in a minute, melted metal will begin to drip and everything will turn to nothing. Quick: get cold water, logic. I am pouring it over myself by the bucketload but the logic sizzles on the hot bearings and dissipates elusive white steam into the air.

Revolution is everywhere, in everything. There is no final revolution, no final number.