Quotes About Pressure

Anyone who does not get enough rest and relaxation to enjoy life, who drives him/herself constantly, who is never satisfied or is a perfectionist, who is under constant pressure (especially with few outlets for emotional release), who feels trapped or helpless, who feels overwhelmed by repeated or continuous difficulties, or who has experienced severe or chronic emotional or physical trauma or illness is probably already suffering from some degree of adrenal fatigue.

Acting like a man means developing a non-anxious presence that sees the big picture, remains calm in a crisis, and won't cave in under pressure. Godly men respond; they don't react.

I guess I've never had anyone expect anything of me before. I feel so overwhelmed at the possibility of letting these men down

A finite game does not have its own time. It exists in a world's time. An audience allows players only so much time to win their titles.

I can't explain it. It's what turns you to powder, being ground between what you can't do and what you must do. You just turn to dust.

If you're still stuck, re-watch Misery and imagine that your number one fan insists that you finish by the end of the month.

He is being nibbled to death by ducks. --More Later, Less the Same

my endless cramming felt a lot more like self destruction than any glue-sniffing I'd ever done;

She feared that she would become a slave to superficial, symbolic duties.

If I wasn't busy, she replied, I'd go crazy.

If someone cracks up, what does that mean? At what point does a person about to fall to pieces say: I'm cracking up? And if I were to crack up, what form would it take?

Emotion is a trap, it delivers you into the hands of society, that's why people are measuring it out.

But all the pressures go the other way, towards learning only what is immediately useful, what is functional. More and more the demand is for people to be educated to function in an almost certainly temporary stage of technology. Educated for the short term.

Nearly all the pressures from outside are in terms of group beliefs, group needs, national needs, patriotism and the demands of local loyalties, such as to your city and local groups of all kinds. But more subtle and more demanding—more dangerous—are the pressures from inside, which demand that you should conform, and it is these that are the hardest to watch and to control.

What government, anywhere in the world, will happily envisage its subjects learning to free themselves from governmental and state rhetoric and pressures? Passionate loyalty and subjection to group pressure is what every state relies on. Some, of course, more than others.

Essential political decisions are made not once, but again and again in a variety of situations, always against that pressure to compromise, to bargain

any country which has suffered a reverse of fortune instantly turns on its nonconformists.

For how long can one maintain total vigilance? For how long can love last, in isolation, without sinking crushed beneath its own pressure?

protested Mrs. Featherstone, a lady in her thirties, whose violently compressed figure suggested that she was engaged in a perpetual struggle to compute her weight in terms of the first syllables of her name rather than the last.

For they amount to this: that if we are to produce a society of educated people, fitted to preserve their intellectual freedom amid the complex pressures of our modern society, we must turn back the wheel of progress some four or five hundred years

Men They hail you as their morning star Because you are the way you are. If you return the sentiment, They'll try to make you different; And once they have you, safe and sound, They want to change you all around. Your moods and ways they put a curse on; They'd make of you another person. They cannot let you go your gait; They influence and educate. They'd alter all that they admired. They make me sick, they make me tired.

A life that is burdened with expectations is a heavy life. Its fruit is sorrow and disappointment.

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.

the normal background-noise type of guilt that comes from just being alive this far into the twentieth century