Quotes About Effort

The main thing in life is survival. And survival is not just staying alive. It is also a constant effort to grow and to learn and to work.

Facilis descensus Averni: noctes atque dies patet atri ianua Ditis; sed revocare gradium superasque evadere ad auras. hoc opus, hic labor est.

And as he spoke he wept. Three times he tried to reach arms round that neck. Three times the form, reached for in vain, escaped Like a breeze between his hands, a dream on wings.

Tum vero Teucri incumbunt, et litore celsas deducunt toto naves:  natat uncta carina; frondentisque ferunt remos et robora silvis infabricata, fugae studio.

Haec ubi dicta dedit, lacrimantem et multa uolentem dicere deseruit, tenuesque recessit in auras. Ter conatus ibi collo dare bracchia circum; ter frustra comprensa manus effugit imago, par leuibus uentis uolucrique simillima somno.

Turne, tot incassum fusos patiere labores et tua Dardaniis transcribi sceptra colonis?

Here is the toil of that house, and the inextricable wandering

Lo scender ne l'Averno è cosa agevole ché notte e dì ne sta l'entrata aperta; ma tornar poscia a riveder le stelle, qui la fatica e qui l'opra consiste.

All thinking (is) an effort to make thought escape from the thinker's mind past all obstacles as completely as possible: all society is an attempt to seise and influence and coerce each thought as it appears and force it to yield to another.

The most extraordinary thing about writing is that when you've struck the right vein, tiredness goes. It must be an effort, thinking wrong.

Effort ceases. Time flaps on the mast. There we stop; there we stand. Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame

As a cloud crosses the sun, silence falls on London; and falls on the mind. Effort ceases. Time flaps on the mast. There we stop; there we stand. Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame. Where there is nothing, Peter Walsh said to himself; feeling hollowed out, utterly empty within. Clarissa refused me, he thought. He stood there thinking, Clarissa refused me.

being an artist: And this susceptibility of theirs is doubly unfortunate , I thought, returning again to my original enquiry into what state of mind is propitious for creative work, because the mind of an artist, in order to achieve to the prodigious effort of freeing whole and entire the work that is in him, must be incandescent, like Shakespeare's mind, I conjectured, looking at the book which lay open at Antony and Cleopatra. There must be no obstacle in it, no foreign matter unconsumed.

To speak or to be silent was equally an effort, for when they were silent they were keenly conscious of each other's presence, and yet words were either too trivial or too large.

It is remarkable, remembering the bitterness of those days, what a change of temper a fixed income will bring about. No force in the world can take from me my five hundred pounds. Food, house, and clothing are mine forever. Therefore not merely do effort and labour cease, but also hatred and bitterness. I need not hate any man; he cannot hurt me.

Neste mundo não existe estabilidade. Quem será capaz de exprimir o significado das coisas? Quem pode prever o voo que uma palavra descreve depois de dita? É um balão que plana sobre as árvores. E o esforço de conhecer é sempre inútil. Tudo é experiência e aventura. Constantemente formamos novas combinações de elementos desconhecidos. O que está para vir?

Como uma nuvem que atravessa o sol, o silêncio caiu sobre Londres, e caiu sobre o espírito. Todo esforço é findo. Pende o tempo, do mastro. Rígido, somente o esqueleto do hábito sustenta a forma humana. E onde não há nada, disse Peter Walsh a si mesmo; o sentimento escava-se, ôco, completamente ôco. Clarissa recusou-me, pensou. E ali ficou parado, a pensar: Clarissa recusou-me.

One never gets anything worth having by post.

As a cloud crosses the sun, silence falls on London; and falls on the mind. Effort ceases. Time flaps on the mast. There we stop; there we stand. Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame.

We stumble up—we stumble on.

Fight ! Fight! I repeated. It is the effort and the struggle, it is the perpetual warfare, it is the shattering and piecing together. This is the daily battle, defeat or victory, the absorbing pursuit.

Drawing her life from the lives of the unknown who were her fore-runners, as her brother did before her, she will be born. As for her coming without that preparation, without that effort on our part, without that determination that when she is born again she shall find it possible to live and write her poetry, that we cannot expect, for that would be impossible. But I maintain that she would come if we worked for her, and that so to work, even in poverty and obscurity, is worth while.

Vendrá si trabajamos por ella, y que vale la pena trabajar hasta en la oscuridad y en la pobreza.

Oare de ce tr?im? De ce ne d?m atîta silin?? ca rasa uman? s? mearg? înainte? E un lucru atît de dezirabil? Sîntem atît de atr?g?tori ca specie?