#exhaust

Life in general has never been even close to fair, so the pretense that the government can make it fair is a valuable and inexhaustible asset to politicians who want to expand government. ↗

— Thomas Sowell

#been #close #even #expand #fair

You get three hours' sleep and then you start all over again. Relentless. Pre-production was almost harder than filming. I was all over the city every day. It was really exhausting. ↗

— Ed Harris

#almost #city #day #every #every day

The becoming of man is the history of the exhaustion of his possibilities. ↗

— Susan Sontag

#exhaustion #his #history #man #possibilities

But even gold is not everything: and only a fanatic, and a rather foolish fanatic, would say that this style of fiction summed up and exhausted all the good that fiction could give and do. ↗

— George Saintsbury

#even #everything #exhausted #fanatic #fiction

Having reached a point in which I was so bitter and exhausted from being a quote unquote public figure, I wanted to return to a more childlike relationship to writing. ↗

— David Leavitt

#bitter #childlike #exhausted #figure #having

I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all that he holds dear, is that moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle - victorious. ↗

— Vince Lombardi

#any #battle #believe #cause #dear

Before forty, you think that exhaustion is something like a long-lasting hangover. But at forty you learn all about it. Even your passions exhaust you. ↗

— Kevin Barry

#exhaustion #forty #passions #age

When I feel like my body is exhausted, I focus on making my fifth Olympic team so I can push through it. ↗

— Dana Torres

#exhausted #feel #fifth #focus #i

It is not the dream of what you're feeling laziness, if not, the sleep of exhaustion. ↗

— Edmundo de Amicis

#exhaustion #feeling #laziness #sleep #dreams

I work all day, and get half drunk at night. Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare. In time the curtain edges will grow light. Till then I see what's really always there: Unresting death, a whole day nearer now, Making all thought impossible but how And where and when I shall myself die. Arid interrogation: yet the dread Of dying, and being dead, Flashes afresh to hold and horrify. The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse – The good not used, the love not given, time Torn off unused – nor wretchedly because An only life can take so long to climb Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never: But at the total emptiness forever, The sure extinction that we travel to And shall be lost in always. Not to be here, Not to be anywhere, And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true. This is a special way of being afraid No trick dispels. Religion used to try, That vast moth-eaten musical brocade Created to pretend we never die, And specious stuff that says no rational being Can fear a thing it cannot feel, not seeing That this is what we fear – no sight, no sound, No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with, Nothing to love or link with, The anaesthetic from which none come round. And so it stays just on the edge of vision, A small unfocused blur, a standing chill That slows each impulse down to indecision. Most things may never happen: this one will, And realisation of it rages out In furnace fear when we are caught without People or drink. Courage is no good: It means not scaring others. Being brave Lets no-one off the grave. Death is no different whined at than withstood. Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape. It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know, Have always known, know that we can't escape Yet can't accept. One side will have to go. Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring Intricate rented world begins to rouse. The sky is white as clay, with no sun. Work has to be done. Postmen like doctors go from house to house. ↗

— Philip Larkin

#maturity #stasis #courage