Quotes About Struggle

Josephine wasn't much for praying . It had never done her any good.

Stupid cheap bracket. Nothing was going right today. Or the day before. Jake had been so preoccupied earlier he'd forgotten to shut off the electric and had gotten zapped good. Then when he'd shut off the electric, he'd whacked his head on the corner of the fuse box door. All

They fought to smile through the lines and the mud and the long hours, dancing under the stars and under the watchful eyes of their government, an Orwellian backdrop for a Rockwellian world.

Despite their marriage license and four children, black couples were not permitted to live as man and wife on the Reservation.

nobody ever became a writer just by wanting to be one. "Nothing any good isn't hard.

Life on the Reservation, he observed, was "particularly hard on those who lack a sense of humor.

Two by two in the ark ofthe ache of it.

Grief is a hole you walk around in the daytime and at night you fall into it.

To speak of sorrow works upon it moves it from its crouched place barring the way to and from the soul's hall-- out in the light it shows clear, whether shrunken or known as a giant wrath-- discrete at least, where before its great shadow joined the walls and roof and seemed to uphold the hall like a beam.

The Broken Sandal" Dreamed the thong of my sandal broke. Nothing to hold it to my foot. How shall I walk? Barefoot? The sharp stones, the dirt. I would hobble. And– Where was I going? Where was I going I can't go to now, unless hurting? Where am I standing, if I'm to stand still now?

And we, frightened, bored, wanting only to sleep till catastrophe has raged, clashed, seethed and gone by without us, wanting then to awaken in quietude without remembrance of agony, we who in shamefaced private hope had looked to be plucked from fire and given a bliss we deserved for having imagined it, is it implied that we must protect this perversely weak animal, whose muzzle's nudgings suppose there is milk to be found in us? Must hold to our icy hearts a shivering God?

I wanted to say that rapist footballers and billionaires and hired hit men were the people who were making things difficult for me, not allies.

Beautiful women like Julia have a hard hand to play, so much is projected on to them, they get bulldozed all the time.

He was determined to take responsibility but he was just a cog. She'd seen that many times before. It was a belief often borne of a traumatic childhood, it was so much more manageable to believe himself bad than the world.

Why's it called the Battlefield Rest?" "You don't know this area?" "No." "Mary Queen of Scots fought her last battle here. Against her son's army. She lost.

Beautiful women like Julia have a hard hand to play, so much is projected on to them, they get bulldozed all the time. I think I wanted to say that I cared what she thought and maybe have her admire my trousers again. I think I had a little crush on her.

Sorg är ett ärr. Vävnaden blir hård och när såret går upp igen läker det dåligt.

I've an awful druth

I know it's hard, but that's the way it has to be.

I'd like to say I found a sublime beauty in it all, but I didn't. And yet. And yet, this life we'd built filled our car

at rude variance with the poverty of its surroundings.

I felt that when I'd wished to die, I was being who I really was, sans interference from the world or from the priorities and hopes that had polluted me through other people's minor needs for me or from the books I read incessantly. It was like I'd found myself, and I was someone who had never had the things I really wanted, plainly never would, and whom no one would fully comprehend.

not yet knowing myself in the slightest, I'd done nothing but convince myself I was in love with one cute, suicidal basket case after another.

When I started writing I was a sick teenaged fuck inside who partly thought I was the new Marquis de Sade, a body doomed to communicate with Satan who was us- ing my sickness as his home away from home, and there's your proof.