Quotes About Struggle

en lo más hondo de aquel empecinamiento, clamaba la rebelión del modesto fabricante artesano contra la invasora vulgaridad de los artículos de bazar.

But now the miner was waking up under the ground, germinating in the earth like good seed, and one fine morning you would see him springing up like corn in the fields; yes, men would spring up, an army of men to bring justice back into the world.

They, poor devils, were just machine-fodder, they were penned like cattle in housing estates, the big Companies were gradually dominating their whole lives, regulating slavery, threatening to enlist all the nation's workers, millions of hands to increase the wealth of a thousand idlers.

Então era possível que uma pessoa se matasse num trabalho de escravo, no fundo dessas trevas horrendas, e nem sequer conseguisse ganhar os parcos tostões para o pão de cada dia?

war is] life itself...We must eat or be eaten so that the world might live. it is only warlike nations which have prospered: a nation dies as soon as it disarms

Homens brotavam, um exército negro, vingador, que germinava lentamente nos sulcos da terra, crescendo para as colheitas do século futuro, cuja germinação não tardaria em fazer rebentar a terra.

Dios mío! ¡Si es que la quiero! ¡Es que la quiero! ¿Por qué se complace en martilizarme de este modo?

À cette heure, elle voulut le mal, le mal que personne ne commet, le mal qui allait emplir son existence vide et la mettre enfin dans cet enfer dont elle avait toujours peur.

Fransa'n?n en büyük romanc?lar?ndan birinin kopard??? Üstelik bu insanlar uyuyabiliyorlar, eÅŸleri ve çocuklar? var, onlar? seviyorlar! ç??l???n? her okuyuÅŸlar?nda yürekleri s?zlayacak, kendi kendilerinden, kendi türlerinden utanacak, gerçek adalet özlemini bir kez daha duyacaklar.

If the world is to die in misery, let it at least go out with a song on its lips, and pity for itself.

Oh, Justice, what frightful despair oppresses our hearts!

he was carried aloft, for the moment, on one of those great waves of hope from which he was usually plunged deep into the agonies familiar to all artists with a devouring passion for nature. (25)

to study the ambitions and appetites of a family launched upon the modern world, making superhuman efforts but always failing because of its own nature and the influences upon it, almost getting there only then to fall back again, and ending up by producing veritable moral monsters, the priest, the murderer, the artist. The times are in turmoil, and it is this turmoil of the moment which I shall depict. (vii)

I want to depict the artist's struggle with reality, the sheer effort of creation which goes into every work of art, the blood and tears involved in giving of one's flesh, in trying to make something that lives...the endless the defeats, the struggle with the angel.' (ix)

la machine ronflait, crachait, comme une bête qu'on surmène, avec des sursauts, des coups de reins, où l'on aurait cru entendre craquer ses membres.

Words failed him again; he began to stammer in his unsuccessful attempt to express the first vague stirrings of the future he could feel within himself. While he finished feverishly brushing in the black velvet jacket, there was a long silence. (37)

He caressed them, did them violence even, and shed tears of despair over his failures to make them either sufficiently beautiful or sufficiently alive. (42)

La paternidad, en medio de sus calvarios, proporcionan goces generosos que no comprendemos los que vivimos acorazados en nuestra prudente abstención.

Because even one small island of success in a river of failure is worth whatever we have to do to achieve it.

You must forgive me, for I struggled only for you.

But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water, rest within arm's length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I'll rest.

He might as well plant an oak in a flowerpot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares!

The Night Is Darkening Round M The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending Their bare boughs weighed with snow; The storm is fast descending, And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below; But nothing drear can move me; I will not, cannot go.

Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.