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Quotes about strife

Laurence Olivier

Living is strife and torment, disappointment and love and sacrifice, golden sunsets and black storms. I said that some time ago, and today I do not think I would add one word.

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My Soul, my Soul, all disturbed by sorrows inconsolable,
Bear up, hold out, meet front-on the many foes that rush on you
Now from this side and now that, enduring all such strife up close,
Never wavering; and should you win, don't openly exult,
Nor, defeated, throw yourself lamenting in a heap at home,
But delight in things that are delightful and, in hard times, grieve
Not too much - appreciate the rhythm that controls men's lives.

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Hermann Hesse

Happiness (Glück)

If luck you chase, you have not grown
enough for happiness to stay,
not even if you get your way.

If, what you lost, you still bemoan,
and grasp at tasks, and dash and dart,
you have not known true peace of heart.

But if no wishes are your own,
and you don't try to win the game,
and Lady Luck is just a name,

then tides of life won't reach your breast?
and all your strife
and all your soul will rest.

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I'm the Spirit that denies
All things, always, stars or flowers.
That by sneers and strife supplies
Cause to vex the Heavenly power.
I'm for chaos; as for creation
ruin and universal plague!
My very life and being! My very life and breath!
Is what here they call transgression, sin and death!
Shouting and laughing out this word I offer:
spitting, roaring, hissing, on I go,
slandering, soiling, wasting, howling.
On I go whistling, whistling, whistling and whistling!
I am of that demeanor!

I hide in obscurity,
a child of darkness and ambition.
Shadows, hiding, wait for me.
If the light usurps, contending,
on my rebel specters right.
Not prolonged will be the fight!

[...] Read more

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Carmen Sylva

The Shadow

The shadow of your threshold is so full
Of meaning, that the stranger knows what home
Is yours, if peace dwell here, or strife, or restless
Unsatisfied ambition. As the tree's
Deep shadow meaneth rest and comfort, or
Is poison, sleep eternal, such the house
That is a home's sweet shadow or a dark
Abode of sin, of lurking lie and danger.
The shadow of your life, that is so small
In bright midday and summer's burning sun,
Begins to lengthen when your evening comes,
And shows the beauty of the tree in outline,
Its graceful forms, its harmony and power;
And never did its beauty strike before,
As now, when lost in thought, you contemplate
The shadow on the lawn. The golden rays
That flood it, make it higher, nobler, and
Its shadow ever greater, till the night
Calls forth the moon, to make it deep and weird
As if unspoken pain had darkened it,

[...] Read more

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Carmen Sylva

A Friend

Old age is gentle as an autumn morn;
The harvest over, you will put the plough
Into another, stronger hand, and watch
The sowing you were wont to do.
Old age
Is like an alabaster room, with soft
White curtains. All is light, but light so mild,
So quiet, that it cannot hurt.
The pangs
Are hushed, for life is wild no more with strife,
Nor breathless uphill work, nor heavy with
The brewing tempests, which have torn away
So much, that nothing more remains to fear.
What once was hope, is gone. You know. You saw
The worst, and not a sigh is left of all
The heavy sighs that tore your heart, and not
A tear of all those tears that burnt your cheeks,
And ploughed the forrows into them.
You see
How others work again and weep again,

[...] Read more

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Byron

Canto the Fourth

I
Nothing so difficult as a beginning
In poesy, unless perhaps the end;
For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning
The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend,
Like Lucifer when hurl'd from heaven for sinning;
Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend,
Being pride, which leads the mind to soar too far,
Till our own weakness shows us what we are.

II
But Time, which brings all beings to their level,
And sharp Adversity, will teach at last
Man, -- and, as we would hope, -- perhaps the devil,
That neither of their intellects are vast:
While youth's hot wishes in our red veins revel,
We know not this -- the blood flows on too fast;
But as the torrent widens towards the ocean,
We ponder deeply on each past emotion.

[...] Read more

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Individual societies begin in harmonious adaptation to the environment and, like individuals, quickly get trapped into nonadaptive, artificial, repetitive sequences. When the individual's behavior and consciousness get hooked to a routine sequence of external actions, he is a dead robot, and it is time for him to die and be reborn. Time to "drop out," "turn on," and "tune in." This period of robotization is called the Kali Yuga, the Age of Strife and Empire...

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Song of Life

Maiden of the laughing eyes,
Primrose-kirtled, winged, free,
Virgin daughter of the skies—
Joy—whom gods and mortals prize,
Share thy smiles with me!

Yet—lest I, unheeding, borrow
Pleasure that to-day endears
And benumbs the heart to-morrow—
Turn not wholly from me, Sorrow!
Let me share thy tears!

Give me of thy fullness, Life!
Pulse and passion, power, breath,
Vision pure, heroic strife,—
Give me of thy fullness, Life!—
Nor deny me death!

poem by from Mine and Thine (1904)Report problemRelated quotes
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Soul Searching

Summertime and my heart is happy
Every bloom exudes a sweet perfume
Delicate creatures on feathered wings
Warble songs that fill the air
Butterflies without a care
Rays of sunlight filters through
The paths I take the one I knew
Let me walk in peace
Enjoy the simple things in life
And never strife to hold
What is not mine to keep
Then, when I go to the place I know
It will not count who I was or what I had
Only, was I bad?

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