Quotes About Struggle

The way back was harder, and no getting around that-no truth I learned struggling back, except that life is struggle. It placed me in some gray realm beyond, a landscape of exertion and anguish. I had nothing left to give, and yet still I had something left it give.

But when you can't escape the seconds, when you are sure you are going to die before you can get free, some things don't mean very much anymore.

What was a person but someone who turned monstrous, anyway?

Alcohol made it hard to tell a demon from a monster.

Now he wondered why he'd bothered. He disliked having such thoughts because he wasn't above it all—he was in it—but they were hard to suppress.

he considered mankind a race of crazy half-monkeys, intent upon suicide.

The world we are a part of now is difficult to accept, unimaginably difficult. I don't know if I accept everything even now. I don't know how I can. But acceptance moves past denial, and maybe there's defiance in that, too.

But by then, whenever this was, the Strange Bird did not want to live, or did not know she could live, and that was the same thing in the end.

En ocasiones las personas ofrecen su luz pero esta parpadea y es extremadamente tenue, porque nunca antes se ha ocupado nadie de ellas. Porque han dado demasiado de sí mismos y ya no les queda nada.

Perhaps because trees did not resist. Trees fell over on their own accord, sometimes, as if to prove their love for the ax. The chainsaw that felled most of them just completed a trees own inevitable thought.

That's how the madness of the world tries to colonize you: from the outside in, forcing you to live in its reality.

We all just want to be people, and none of us know what that really means.

Had these Africans been a cruelly oppressed people, restlessly struggling to be freed from their bonds, would their masters have dared to leave them, as was done, and would they have remained as they did, continuing their usual duties, or could the proclamation of emancipation have been put on the plea of a military necessity, if the fact had been that the negroes were forced to serve, and desired only an opportunity to rise against their masters?

Sometimes you can't be what you ought to be, you can't have what you ought to have.

And life changes. Maybe just a little, maybe a lot. And at some point, it just isn't worth the fight to fix it.

You think publishing is tough but the music world is ten times tougher.

It's a tough life, she'd said. "It's the little things that get us through the day.

You see tumbleweeds? You see cowpokes? Indians? This isn't the streets of Laredo.

The Frenchman beside me had been dead since dawn. His scarred and shackled body swayed limply back and forth with every sweep of the great oar as we, his less fortunate bench-fellows, tugged and strained to keep time to the stroke.

We thought back to previous research we'd been involved in with so-called difficult clients. One conclusion was that there really are no such things—all clients are really doing the best they can—just doing their jobs coping in the only way they know how.

we all suffer in our different ways from being prisoners of birth.

Making a million legally has always been difficult. Making a million illegally has always been a little easier. Keeping a million when you have made it is perhaps the most difficult of all.

I don't need you making me feel like an evil person every time I do something. I gave up smoking weed for you and that's a pretty big thing. I can't hold your hand 24 hours a day. Can't hold you 24 hours a day. Can't kiss you 24 hours a day. Can't have sex 24 hours a day.

The current situation reminds me too much of the fable of the farmer whose chickens are dying. The local priest gives one remedy af- ter another—prayers, potions, oaths—until all of the chickens are dead. "Too bad," says the priest, "I had so many other good ideas.