Kate Chopin Quotes

I want to explain how exhausted I am. Even in my dreams. How I wake up tired. How I’m being drowned by some kind of black wave.

Some days I feel like everyone in my world has plugged themselves into my kidneys. I'm so tired.

I do notice that I am tired.

Behind the fury, he was tired. He was tired of being hauled around and shoved into a little room. He was tired of trying for me and failing. And to have Minias know it, to be carted off under his leash…It was almost insulting. Maybe, if I gave Al a night of peace to lick his wounds and his pride, he would grant that same courtesy to me?

There are days when I am just dead on the floor, and I'm there in my makeup, and that's getting a little tiring.

There's no narcotic like exhaustion.

It is June. I am tired of being brave.

I had repeatedly accepted inappropriate burdens, stepping in to do what needed to be done. In retrospect, I think I carried them well, but the cost was that I was chronically overloaded, weary, and short of time for politicking, smoothing ruffled feathers, and simply resting.

I feel too much. It's like being drummed to death from within. You know?

He looks tired, like someone walked on his skin and left footprints.

Like tired dogs they stand there, because they use up all their strength in remaining upright in one's memory.

Which would your men rather be, tired, or dead?

I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.

I am tired of being tired and talking about how tired I am.

But we were all feeling that bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it having been an evening of some small energy expenditure.

I am tired of hiding, tired of misspent and knotted energies, tired of the hypocrisy, and tired of acting as though I have something to hide.

I am stronger than words and I am bigger than the box I'm in, and then I see her in the crowd and I fall apart -I am listening and I am listening because what I'm playing isn't something I'm thinking about, it's something I'm feeling all over.

She closes the door completely, and I crouch there. I allow myself to fall forward and rest my head on the door frame. My breath bleeds. My heartbeat drowns my ears.

We're all a little tired.

I am so tired, I can hardly type these worfs.

Then - as he was talking - a set of tail-lights going past lit up McMurphy's face, and the windshield reflected an expression that was allowed only because he figured it'd be too dark for anybody in the car to see, dreadfully tired and strained and frantic, like there wasn't enough time left for something he had to do.

Tired, tired with nothing, tired with everything, tired with the world’s weight he had never chosen to bear.

They were pretty tired by now of course; but not what I’d call bitterly tired – only slow and feeling very dreamy and tired as one does when one is coming to the end of a long day in the open.

I'm so tired. I don't know if I can ever outrun how I used to be.

I'm so tired, Katniss.