Best 62 quotes in «exhaustion quotes» category

He had come to life for maybe a minute to try to tell us something, something none of us cared to listen to or tried to understand, and the effort had drained him dry.

He ached with weariness, but it became part of him; he scarcely noticed now that he was weary, he might always have been thus, it was so familiar to him.

I'll do that,' says Wystan. He is restless and yet exhausted.

He was dead tired, thanks to which, whatever emotions he might have had, simply came and went without gaining a foothold. The Rat began to relax and lay down his empty head on the mingled sounds of the waves and the deejay until sleep crept over him.

It was hell to be so tired, and still care.

It is true that even when exhausted you still are providing something to those you serve. But you are out of touch with your deepest strengths, role-modelling self-destructive behaviour, martyring yourself, and giving others cause for guilt.

It wasn't that she was sad—sadness had very little to do with it, really, considering that most of the time, she felt close to nothing at all. Feeling required nerves, connections, sensory input. The only thing she felt was numb. And tired. Yes, she very frequently felt tired.

I’m really tired”, you come to understand, is meaningless, giving the impression all will be well with a good rest and that if you’ve ever been tired, you know what it is to be exhausted.

Incidentally her head ached and her shoulders ached and her lungs ached and the ankle-bones of both feet ached quite excruciatingly. But nothing of her felt permanently incapacitated except her noble expression. Like a strip of lip-colored lead suspended from her poor little nose by two tugging wire-gray wrinkles her persistently conscientious sickroom smile seemed to be whanging aimlessly against her front teeth. The sensation certainly was very unpleasant.

It must then have been nearly midnight: but so slowly did I creep along, that I heard a clock in a cottage strike four before I turned down the lane from Slough to Eton.

It's hard not to feel humorless, as a woman and a feminist, to recognize misogyny in so many forms, some great and some small, and know you're not imagining things. It's hard to be told to lighten up because if you lighten up any more, you're going to float the fuck away. The problem is not that one of these things is happening; it's that they are all happening, concurrently and constantly.

Man, that was one trippy ride. Especially when those big white rabbits started running alongside the car through Crow Canyon. Dave and Mickey looked at me like I was nuts until they figured out I was so fucked-up tired, I'd hallucinated the white mailboxes we'd passed along the road into galloping rabbits.

Nothing is more exhausting than the task that’s never started.

Notions of rebellion had been expelled out of her by the stifling sun

Recovery from complete and utter exhaustion facilitates individual creativity

Pregnancy sucks the nightlife out of you.

Oh, sweet little boy, beloved little girl, you are so overwhelmed by life sometimes, I know, by the enormity of it all, by the vastness of the possibilities, by the myriad of perspectives available to you. You feel so pressed down sometimes, by all the unresolved questions, by all the information you are supposed to process and hold, by the urgency of things. You are overcome by powerful emotions, trying to make it all "work out" somehow, trying to get everything done "on time," trying to resolve things so fast, even trying not to try at all. You are exhausted, sweet one, exhausted from all the trying and the not trying, and you are struggling to trust life again. It's all too much for the poor organism, isn't it? You are exhausted; you long to rest. And that is not a failing of yours, not a horrible mistake, but something wonderful to embrace!

Remember what I done for you here today,' he shouted and passed out.

The challenge lies in knowing how to bring this sort of day to a close. His mind has been wound to a pitch of concentration by the interactions of the office. Now there are only silence and the flashing of the unset clock on the microwave. He feels as if he had been playing a computer game which remorselessly tested his reflexes, only to have its plug suddenly pulled from the wall. He is impatient and restless, but simultaneously exhausted and fragile. He is in no state to engage with anything significant. It is of course impossible to read, for a sincere book would demand not only time, but also a clear emotional lawn around the text in which associations and anxieties could emerge and be disentangled. He will perhaps only ever do one thing well in his life. For this particular combination of tiredness and nervous energy, the sole workable solution is wine. Office civilisation could not be feasible without the hard take-offs and landings effected by coffee and alcohol.

She is exhausting to everyone. She would take a break from herself, too, but she doesn't have that option.

Some day, with the last exhaustion, peace will come. It won't be the end of all things to come.

The air in my home is heavy with my mom's unhappiness. And her exhaustion. And her sheer dissatisfaction with her life. And I hate it. I can be up in my room when she's in the kitchen below and I feel her despair seeping up through the floorboards. You can hear her banging pots and pans or cursing the vacuum cleaner

Soothing the exhaustion In my soul, So I can fall back skyward, Safe in your arms, And survive to dream again.

Ten times a day I am compelled to reflect on my past life ... and I can never justify to myself the spending of four years on dramatic criticism. I have sworn an oath to endure no more of it. Never again will I cross the threshold of a theatre. The subject is exhausted; and so am I. I am off duty forever, and am going to sleep.

The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon, The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers, For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

THE CURE FOR EXHAUSTION Sometimes, exhausted with toil and endeavour, I wish I could sleep for ever and ever; but then this reflection my longing allays: I shall be doing it one of these days.

The hardest chore to do, and to do right, is to think. Why do you think the common man would choose labor, partially, as a distraction from his own thoughts? It is because that level of stress, he most absolutely abhors.

This much I do know - I'm exhausted by the cumulative consequences of a lifetime of hasty choices and chaotic passions.

This sort of sickness is a nothingness, really – a state of limbo; neither well enough to be a functioning member of society nor possessing a sign of illness that signals to the world you are sick. There’s no broken arm. Not even a sore throat and hacking cough.

Those who indulge themselves in sense stimulation throughout their lives often end up exhausted, with an enfeebled will and little capacity to love others.

We all grow tired eventually; it happens to everyone. Even the sun, at the close of the year, is no longer a morning person.

When mental [illness] increases until it reaches the danger point, do not exhaust yourself by efforts to trace back to original causes. Better accept them as inevitable and save your strength to fight against the effects.

What needed to stop was the succession of dates with these relatively impressive, relatively interesting people, when I could tell from the first minute that everyone here was going to end as a runner-up in a long race to nowhere in particular, broken-down, exhausted, no one wearing a medal.

You wander. You work nearly every job known to man, it seems, only to arrive at the wonderings of philosophy.

Whether you try too hard to fit in or you try too hard to stand out, it is of equal consequence: you exhaust your significance.

You know what really wears you out? People telling you that you look tired all the time!

A true champion is one who sweats from exhaustion when no one is watching.

A champion is someone who sweats to exhaustion, even when no one else is watching

A man of genius is inexhaustible only in proportion as he is always renourishing his genius.

Don't want to slump over the oars.

The antidote to exhaustion isn't rest. It's wholeheartedness.

Exhaustion is the shortest way to equality and fraternity.

Evie wanted to cry. From fear. From exhaustion, yes. But mostly from the cruel uselessness, the damned stupid arbitrariness of it all.

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

I close my eyes and black out the day. The exhaustion of living through it, surviving.

Muscle-work can only make one weary-it takes brain-work to create true exhaustion.

A stationary sense . . . as, I suppose, I shall have, till my single body grows         Inaccurate, tired; Then I shall start to feel the backward pull Take over, sickening and masterful —         Some say, desired. And this must be the prime of life . . . I blink, As if at pain; for it is pain, to think         This pantomime Of compensating act and counter-act, Defeat and counterfeit, makes up, in fact,         My ablest time. - Maturity

There's no narcotic like exhaustion.

We Americans are living a lifestyle of exhaustion. We don't have time for ourselves, much less for each other and our children.

Write to exhaustion so that you can no longer manage to avoid writing the truth.