39 Exhaustion Quotes

With drooping shoulders The majority sit hunched, their foreheads furrowed like Stony ground that has been repeatedly ploughed-up to no purpose.

Where do people get off saying the Beatles should give $200,000,000 to South America? You know, America has poured billions into places like that. It doesn't mean a damn thing. After they've eaten that meal, then what? It lasts for only a day. After the $200,000,000 is gone, then what? It goes round and round in circles. You can pour money in forever. After Peru, then Harlem, then Britain. There is no one concert. We would have to dedicate the rest of our lives to one world concert tour, and I'm not ready for it. Not in this lifetime, anyway.

First of all: I am tired. I am true of heart! And also: You are tired. You are true of heart!

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.

Every time you come in yelling that God damn 'Rise and Shine!' 'Rise and Shine!' I say to myself, 'How lucky dead people are!'

The family is always the family but during vacations it is an extended family and that is exhausting. (New York: Liveright, 1970, p. 107)

And, growing tired, we turn aside at last, Remember our secret selves, seek out our towers, Lay weary hands on the banisters, and climb; Climbing, each, to his little four-square dream Of love or lust or beauty or death or crime.

Hand took a breath and opened his palms, as if accepting the gift of rain. 'YOU SHALL KNOW OUR VELOCITY!' he bellowed into the cold exhausted city.

His weariness is that of the gladiator after the combat; his work was the whitewashing of a corner in a state official's office.

We were only together for a part of my career, and for every film we did, I did another three on my own. The studio was working me too hard. Fred would rush off for a holiday and call me and say: 'Hey, ready to do another?' And I didn't have the sense to say that I was too tired. Those times were murder for me. Oh, I adored Mr. A but all the hard work...the 5 a.m. calls, the months of non-stop dancing, singing and acting. We just worked it out and had a lot of fun and got very exhausted. And Mr A was quite divine.

A ceux qui ont epuise la politique, il ne reste plus que la pensee pure.

I amna fou' sae muckle as tired - deid dune. It's gey and hard wark coupin' gless for gless Wi' Cruivie and Gilsanquhar and the like, And I'm no' juist as bauld as aince I wes.

Millard Parlette was near exhaustion. ... Sometimes it seemed to him, that he was at the end of his life, that he'd waited just long enough to meet this - the crisis he'd foreseen a hundred years ago. ... Known rebels moved freely through the Hospital, and no one could touch them. Their attitude toward the police was rude and contemptuous. Rumor had it that Millard Parlette was drafting new laws to further restrict police power. It didn't help that the rumors were true.

Whenever I hear you saying, rise and shine, rise and shine, it makes me think how lucky dead people are!

I'm tired of all the people I'm seeing through ~ 'Pass Me By'

Now my weary lips I close; Leave me, leave me to repose!

Work! work! work! While the cock is crowing aloof! And work-work-work, Till the stars shine through the roof!

(Falls down in a drunken stupor): Let's sit down.

The chant was audible but at that distance still wordless. Behind Jack walked the twins, carrying a great stake on their shoulders. The gutted carcass of a pig swung from the stake, swinging heavily as the twins toiled over the uneven ground. The pig's head hung down with gaping neck and seemed to search for something on the ground. At last the words of the chant floated up to them, across the bowl of blackened wood and ashes. 'Kill the pig! Cut her throat! Spill the blood!' Yet as the words became audible, the procession reached the steepest part of the mountain, and in a minute or two the chant had died away.

It was like he attacked sleep, a frontal assault, took it by the throat and forced it to yield him the rest he needed. Rest, but no peace

I think if you left grownups to do what the really actually wanted most in the world to do, every single one of them would lie down and take a nap for the rest of their life. I know this because that's what every grownup does as soon as they're alone

I'm tired of chasing people.

I have now so many fundamental thoughts, so many really metaphysical things to say, that I suddenly get tired and decide not to write more, not to think more, but allow the fever of saying to make me sleepy, and fondle, with closed eyes, as if to a cat, all that I could have said.

There's a tiredness of abstract inteligence, and it's the most horrible of tirednesses. It doesn't weight on you like the tiredness of the body, nor does it worry you like the tiredness of knowledge and emotion. It's a weightiness of the conscience of the world, an inability of the soul to breathe.

Yes, talking to people makes me sleepy.

Last week I probably slept an average of two hours a night. I couldn't stop thinking. My body was exhausted, and my mind was still going.

The day-to-day exhausted me!

A young man with dark circles under his eyes was propping himself up against a penny-in-the-slot machine. An undertaker, passing at that moment, would have looked at this young man sharply, scenting business. So would a buzzard.

It is sometimes advantageous to be unseen, although it is most often rather wearing on the nerves.

Three-thirty in the morning...To Ray Garraty it seemed the longest minute of the longest night of his entire life. It was low tide, dead ebb, the time when the sea washes back, leaving slick mudflats covered with straggled weed, rusty beer cans, rotted prophylactics, broken bottles, smashed buoys, and green-mossed skeletons in tattered bathing trunks. It was dead ebb.

'I'm rightly tired of the pain I hear and feel, boss. I'm tired of bein on the road, lonely as a robin in the rain. Not never havin no buddy to go on with or tell me where we's comin from or goin to or why. I'm tired of people bein ugly to each other. It feels like pieces of glass in my head. I'm tired of all the times I've wanted to help and couldn't.' I'm tired of bein in the dark. Mostly it's the pain. There's too much. If I could end it, I would. But I cain't.