Best 1295 quotes in «tired quotes» category

He was one of those men for whom all their fatigue went to their eyes in a sleepy, sexy kind of way.

His eyeballs felt as if they'd been removed, dry roasted, salted, and replaced.

How beautiful to dream. But dreams, I tell Gil, in one of our quiet moments are so damned tiring. He laughs. I can't promise you that you won't be tired, he says. But please know this. There's a lot of good waiting for you on the other side of tired. Get yourself tired, Andre. That's where you're going to know yourself. On the other side of tired.

I am fed up. I am fed up with tears and weakness.

I am not a finished poem, and I am not the song you’ve turned me into. I am a detached human being, making my way in a world that is constantly trying to push me aside, and you who send me letters and emails and beautiful gifts wouldn’t even recognise me if you saw me walking down the street where I live tomorrow for I am not a poem. I am tired and worn out and the eyes you would see would not be painted or inspired but empty and weary from drinking too much at all times and I am not the life of your party who sings and has glorious words to speak for I don’t speak much at all and my voice is raspy and unsteady from unhealthy living and not much sleep and I only use it when I sing and I always sing too much or not at all and never when people are around because they expect poems and symphonies and I am not a poem but an elegy at my best but unedited and uncut and not a lot of people want to work with me because there’s only so much you can do with an audio take, with the plug-ins and EQs and I was born distorted, disordered, and I’m pretty fine with that, but others are not.

I am so tired. I have grown old from being serious. I have grown ill from being serious. I want to laugh at myself. I want to forget myself. I am so tired.

I am tired of writting... it has nothing to do with life.

I don’t know anymore. I don’t know, I don’t know, god, I’m so tired.

I don’t identify as transgender. But I’m clearly gender not-normal. I don’t think even lesbian is the right identity for me. I really don’t. I might as well come out now. I identify as tired. I’m just tired.

If you are bored, you’re doing yourself a tremendous disservice. Open your mind, break-free from your conditioned routine, and reignite the flames of excitement and discover.

I exhaust my body throughout the day, And I don’t get enough sleep at night. I swallow the words I have to say, And let my thoughts fuck up my peace of mind. In a matter of fact; I’ve been the one who tired me the most and I do owe myself many apologies …

I feel like a numb number from a crumb of my slumber.

I feel underslept but overjoyed. Nothing feels so good as this.

If you are tired, take shelter in silence! If you want to find the truth, take shelter in silence! If you're tired of people, if you missed yourself, if you just want to watch the world or if you want to heal your soul, take shelter in silence!

I had a vision. I lay half asleep in the dirt. The sunset Behind the hills and burnt my skin. And in the dream I saw a throne--my throne, Built on the tower of my life. When I woke all I could think of was my Vision, etched so clearly on my mind. I worked for three days and three nights With no food or drink, until my vision Had become a reality--perfect in every Detail. I pondered the significance of this Edifice and shook off my trance.... I felt tired, I felt lonely, I felt confused, I felt so bloody confused, I felt like a right prat!

I have a love / hate relationship with things and places the same way I do with people. And I’m getting tired of this place, feeling as if each corner here is asking me to leave; Leave and never come back again …

I’m sick and tired of looking around at everyone else falling in love, and telling myself that I don’t deserve it, too.

I know most of you have dozed off before, but have any of you ever dozed on?

I'm just like the tree... strong-looking but slowly dying.

I’m not the Princess, I’m the Dragon. I will roast you and eat you whole

I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired,' said Maxie. 'I know how that feels,' said Blue. 'I think some Pharaoh had that carved on his tomb,' Maxie added. 'Yeah? Times don't change much, do they?

I'm tired as an ancient star; that witnessed the emergence of the universe, and got weary of existence.

I’m tired of pretending, tired of acting like everything’s okay, tired of not being with him…

{McCabe on the influential scientist Luther Burbank} His magnificent work, which added an incalculable sum to the wealth of America and left him a comparatively poor man, is well known. His own simple account of his discoveries runs to 12 volumes and is incomplete. I was one of the few men whom he admitted to his house in Santa Rosa in the few months before he died and I found him advanced even beyond the vague Emersonian theism of his earlier years. He agreed to see me, he said, though he was tired and ill, because of his admiration of my work as a rationalist. He had just raised a storm by a public declaration that he did not believe in a future life, and his biographer Wilbur Hale repeats this.

I'm just so tired of life being something that happens to me. That's not how it's supposed to work. I'm supposed to make my own life.

I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy. I'm tired of driving till I see stars in my eyes.

I said I was "just tired", but I never told you what I was tired of.

I smoke. It's expensive. It's also the best option. You see, I am always, always exhausted. It's a stimulant. When I am too tired to walk one more step, I can smoke and go for another hour. When I am enraged and beaten down and incapable of accomplishing one more thing, I can smoke and feel a little better, just for a minute. It is the only relaxation I am allowed.

It’s a battle, really, between me and the pine needles, to see which one of us moves first. But I’m too tired to lose.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

I sleep and sleep and sleep, yet I still have an unquenchable thirst for it.

I was a flower that bloomed and sparked way too fast. He took me in ’cause I was pretty in all kinds of colors but way too soon I stood on his table sad and dried up. I forgot to nourish myself and the sun never shone from my sky.

I was now, all the time, unutterably tired as if simply keeping alive was a terrible effort.

I was dog-ear tired…

Love should not cause suffocation and death if it is truly love. Don't bundle someone into an uncomfortable cage just because you want to ensure their safety in your life. The bird knows where it belongs, and will never fly to a wrong nest.

Made you the subject of my dreams, I was always the first to hear your screams. Haven't you had enough of all these schemes? Re-run all the scenes...Haven't you noticed we're being a bit too extreme? I know not everything is as it seems, but aren't you tired of floating downstream?

My shadow is tired walking with me; but I have yet to be bored walking with myself, all by myself...

…–now, be happy. But I’m not. I feel nothing. When I ‘m honest with myself, I know that the only emotion I’ve felt in years is being tired. Not physically tired. Just tired. It’s as if…as if there were nobody there to feel any more. But that’s not all. There’s something much worse. It’s doing something horrible to me. I’m beginning to hate people…

Once lively peonies now wind-weary, and ragged at the edges, hang their heavy crowns; rain on their backs, one final act, before detaching from the stem and falling down.

Rekindle the glowing spirit for success in your heart. Refresh your mind with possibility thoughts and never give way for your passion to drink from the cup of tiredness. Be renewed in your thoughts every single day.

She lay there thinking, on the rich, wet graveyard grass, before the tomb of some random parishioner—Beloved Son, Husband, Father—and what she thought was this: she’d been right about almost everything. She’d gotten nearly full marks. A minus again. Blew only one question. Here’s the one thing I got wrong, she thought. I thought that they could never wear me down.

She’s a-going," he says. "Her mind is set on it." It’s a hard life on women, for a fact. Some women. I mind my mammy lived to be seventy or more. Worked every day, rain or shine; never a sick day since her last chap was born until one day she kind of looked around her and then she went and taken that lace-trimmed night-gown she had had forty-five years and never wore out of the chest and put it on and laid down on the bed and pulled the covers up and shut her eyes. "You all will have to look out for pa the best you can," she said. "I’m tired.

She was always tired, these days. She put on one of those smiles that wasn’t really a smile at all, and they went on.

…she was so exhausted and tired, so overwhelmed, that she needed a Red Bull, to calm down and fall asleep.

Slowly, even though I thought it would never happen, New York lost its charm for me. I remember arriving in the city for the first time, passing with my parents through the First World's Club bouncers at Immigration, getting into a massive cab that didn't have a moment to waste, and falling in love as soon as we shot onto the bridge and I saw Manhattan rise up through the looks of parental terror reflected in the window. I lost my virginity in New York, twice (the second one wanted to believe he was the first so badly). I had my mind blown open by the combination of a liberal arts education and a drug-popping international crowd. I became tough. I had fun. I learned so much. But now New York was starting to feel empty, a great party that had gone on too long and was showing no sign of ending soon. I had a headache, and I was tired. I'd danced enough. I wanted a quiet conversation with someone who knew what load-shedding was.

Sometimes, I feel able to write lines about my life and about how I do feel everyday in such a huge book, but sometimes I either prefer to write one word that describe it or just to say nothing at all.

Sometimes, I think, that in the mornings when you first wake up, every thing that happened in the previous day rushes through our mind so fast, we, A: Don't realize it. B: Become more tired, die a little inside, and become groggy. Since everyday, we die a little inside we age closer and closer to death. We constantly grow older, and we're constantly dying. Therefore, don't wake me up early, or I'll take it that you wanted to kill me.

Sometimes solitude is a real heaven for the tired minds and a marvellous sanctuary for the wounded souls!

Somewhere along the way I got tired Tired of them Tired of me And tired of everything I have to carry on my shoulders. Maybe it’s all I need right now A place where I know no one And no one knows my name Somewhere so far away from Their old faces, All of their empty souls And dusty places ; Where I can reinvent myself all over again They I’ve always wanted and loved to be ..

So tired you want to quit, then you get more tired, and forget to quit.