If we grow weary and give up, the goal remains for someone else to achieve. — Zig Ziglar Copy Share Image
Every one is weary, the poore in seeking, the rich in keeping, the good in learning. — George Herbert Copy Share Image
The heart grows weary after a little Of what it loved for a little while. — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
After three days men grow weary, of a wench, a guest, and weather rainy. — Benjamin Franklin Copy Share Image
When you're weary, feeling small, when tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all. — Anonymous Copy Share Image
It would be hard to say that exactly, but antinatalism is a reality in my life, not just an interesting idea. I… — Quentin S. Crisp Copy Share Image
“I close my eyes. My bones sob. Throb. I'm so weary with tryin to hold myself together. Tryin to hold back the… — Moira Young Copy Share Image
To let friendship die away by negligence and silence is certainly not wise. It is voluntarily to throw away one of the… — Samuel Johnson Copy Share Image
One is weary of hearing about the omnipotence of money. I will say rather that, for a genuine man, it is not… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
I was cured in my new infamy of all the tired wisdom of age. I would never weary into that tired state… — Clive Barker Copy Share Image
Work should never make me weary If I'm really meant to do it, But it soon becomes exhausting If it's greed that… — Rebecca McCann Copy Share Image
“It's dark and it's dreary I ponder in vain I'm weakened, I'm weary My repentance is plain.” Bob Dylan, Beyond the Horizon” — R.S. Guthrie Copy Share Image
The weary August days are long; The locusts sing a plaintive song, The cattle miss their master's call When they see the… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Copy Share Image
Twice in my life I have spent two weary and scientifically profitless years seeking evidence to corroborate dearly loved hypotheses that later… — Peter Medawar Copy Share Image
Luck usually visits me at 2 am on a cold morning when, red-eyed and bone-weary, I am pouring over law books preparing… — Louis Nizer Copy Share Image
To a man who is uncorrupt and properly constituted, woman always remains something of a mystery and a romance. He never interprets… — James Parton Copy Share Image
Sick I am of idle words, past all reconciling, Words that weary and perplex and pander and conceal, Wake the sounds that… — George du Maurier Copy Share Image
The men are walking. They are fifty feet apart, for dispersal. Their walk is slow, for they are dead weary, as you… — Ernie Pyle Copy Share Image
I am like a mariner born and bred on board a buccaneer brig whose soul has become so inured to storm and… — Mikhail Lermontov Copy Share Image
Blessed are they who, in the calm moments of retirement, of worship, of prayer, of silent waiting, have found that to "the… — Arthur Penrhyn Stanley Copy Share Image
Prayer is the acid test of the inner man's strength. A strong spirit is capable of praying much and praying with all… — Watchman Nee Copy Share Image
Little Words When you are gone, there is nor bloom nor leaf, Nor singing sea at night, nor silver birds; And I… — Dorothy Parker Copy Share Image
The first step to be taken by one who wishes to follow Christ is, according to Our Lord’s own words, that of… — St. Vincent Copy Share Image
“..perhaps all our lovers are merely hints and symbols; vagabond languages scrawled on gate-posts and paving stones along the weary road that… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
Sometimes when I get up after writing, I'm surprised at how my body feels. Suddenly I'm not a lanky, hungry young boy… — Patrick Rothfuss Copy Share Image
We have great cities to visit: New York and Washington, Paris and London; and further east, and older than any of these,… — Clive Barker Copy Share Image
The Southern newspapers, with their advertisements of negro sales and personal descriptions of fugitive slaves, supply details of misery that it would… — Fanny Kemble Copy Share Image
“In the spring of the year birds began to arrive on the beach from across the gulf. Weary passerines. Vireos. Kingbirds and… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The word was born in the blood, grew in the dark body, beating, and took flight through the lips and the mouth.… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
