Charlotte Bronte Quotes

A lot of life is dealing with your curse, dealing with the cards you were given that aren't so nice. Does it make you into a monster, or can you temper it in some way, or accept it and go in some other direction?

Fighting has been a part of my life for my entire existence.

I'm just like this. I have no talent for choosing my battles. Life seems, strangely, like a battle to me. The whole thing.

He had no strength for any other war than his own solitary struggle to keep alive.

A war is like when it rains in New York and everybody crowds into doorways. They all get chummy together perfect strangers. The only difference, of course, is in a war it's also raining on the other side of the street and the people who are chummy over there are trying to kill the people who are over here who are chums.

Whoso does not see that genuine life is a battle and a march has poorly read his origin and his destiny.

All my life, from birth, it's been a fight. And it always seemed to be another man's war. I always seemed to be fighting for someone else. But it always came back to me. The Word says we're born into sin, and sin always comes back to war.

In time of war, the Devil makes more room in Hell.

For as men in battle are continually in the way of shot, so we, in this world, are ever within the reach of Temptation.

War is life multiplied by some number that no one has ever heard of.

To live is to war with trolls.

All life is a struggle in the dark.

Fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step.

Alone each heart must cover up its dead; Alone, through bitter toil, achieve its rest.

The history of my life is the history of the struggle between an overwhelming urge to write and a combination of circumstances bent on keeping me from it.

I've spent too many years at war with myself, the doctor has told me it's not good for my health.

And again she felt alone in the presence of her old antagonist, life.

In war it does not matter who is right, but who is left.

I am at war with the obvious.

I have a deep sympathy with war; it so apes the gait and bearing of the soul.

In spite of the problems he was having he was going on with his life. There are thousands who don’t or won’t or can’t and plenty of them aren’t in prison either.

... when there is a war the years are longer that is to say the days are longer the months are longer the years are much longer but the weeks are shorter that is what makes a war.

It needs but one foe to breed a war, and those who have not swords can still die upon them.

War may make a fool of man, but it by no means degrades him; on the contrary, it tends to exalt him, and its net effects are much like those of motherhood on women.

And wonder, dread and war have lingered in that land where loss and love in turn have held the upper hand.