Quotes About Fatigue

Talk's the way to kill it. Anything gets boring if you talk about it enough, even death.

A man can only do a given thing so many times with freshness and spirit--then, no matter what it is, it becomes like an office task. I enjoy cards and whoring, but even cards and whoring can grow boresome. You tup your wife a thousand times and that becomes an office task, too.

The thought cross his mind that he ought to have married her and not gone rambling. If he had, he wouldn't be in such a fix. But he felt little fear; just an overpowering fatigue. Life had slipped out of line. It was unfair, it was too bad, but he couldn't find the energy to fight it any longer.

But that's not how you learn you can count on someone. You learn it in the moments when everyone's too tired to be sweet, too tired to try hard. You learn it by what they do for you then.

You learn it in the moments when everyone's too tired to be sweet, too tired to try hard. You learn it by what they do for you then.

I stopped paying attention to her. I stopped doing the things that someone does for the person he loves. Because I was tired. Because other things always seemed to matter a little bit more." He

I thought if I were nice enough, sweet enough, she'd understand she could count on me. But that's not how you learn you can count on someone. You learn it in the moments when everyone's too tired to be sweet, too tired to try hard.

I sipped my own coffee, heavy on the sugar and cream, trying to make up for the late work the night before. Caffeine and sugar, the two basic food groups.

The music came back up and the next group of little girls, slightly older, came out. And there was a lot of that in the next hour and change. Older girls, sometimes the same girls, because we got to see them do ballet, jazz, and modern, even a couple of tap dances. I liked dance, and it was no reflection on the kids, but my will to live began to seep away by about the fifth group of sequined children. I

Anita: Sen neden yoruldun ? Jason: Bütün kulübe seks ve büyü saçt?n ÅŸimdi neden yorulduÄŸumu mu soruyorsun ? Çok cilveliymiÅŸsin.

Había pasado quince horas seguidas hablando y no podía pronunciar una palabra más.

My head is killing me, my throat is killing me, my stomach bubbles with toxic waste. I just want to sleep. A coma would be nice. Or amnesia. Anything, just to get rid if this, these thoughts, whispers in my mind.

Had she ever enjoyed anything? Had every day been a struggle? Perhaps death would be a release, a rest for the weary.

I'm just tired and I can't sleep yet. A woman's work is never done, isn't that what the fools say?

If I weren't so tired, I'd shove trust and issue down the garbage disposal and let it run all day.

She got too tired and went to sleep. Somehow, I dragged myself out of the dark and asked for help.

Our teachers need a snow day. They look unusually pale. The men aren't shaving carefully and the women never remove their boots. They suffer some sort of teacherflu. Their noses drip, their eyes are rimmed with red. They come to school long enough to infect the staff room then go home sick when the sub shows up.

I don't sleep, have not slept in sixteen years—

Bitter cups of coffee, my life and my trip measured out like Prufrock's in coffee spoons, clothes sweaty, smelly, bra strap digging into flesh, eyes reddened, gritty as if circled with sand, sour taste in mouth, intermittent heartburn

Sadness is almost never anything but a form of fatigue.

I'll never wake up in a good mood again. I'm tired of these stinky boots

I think the deafness affects me more than I realise I think it makes me more tired. I loathe parties. I attend, smile and leave.

Don't go looking at me like that because you'll wear your eyes out.

A heavy slumber enlocked his body; but, as always with men who have long deprived themselves of sleep, he could not sleep at once.