52 Fatigue Quotes

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

Hinduism is a relentless pursuit of Truth. Truth is God and if today it has become moribund, inactive, irresponsive to growth, it is because we are fatigued; and as soon as the fatigue is over, Hinduism will burst upon the world with a brilliance perhaps unknown before.

The age seems sore from excess of stimulation, just as a day or two after a thorough Debauch and long sustained Drinking-match a man feels all over like a Bruise. Even to admire otherwise than on the whole and where 'I admire' is but a synonyme for 'I remember, I liked it very much when I was reading it,' is too much an effort, would be too disquieting an emotion!

I saw a sign: 'Rest Area 25 Miles'. That's pretty big. Some people must be really tired.

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

I wish I had an answer to that, because I'm tired of answering that question.

Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill at ease, And my fingers wandered idly Over the noisy keys.

Our greatest weariness comes from work not done.

Oh bed! oh bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head.

I'm so tired of being tired. Sure as night will follow day, most things I worry about never happen anyway.

Grown old in love from seven till seven times seven, I oft have wished for Hell for ease from Heaven.

Me this unchartered freedom tires; I feel the weight of chance-desires: My hopes no more must change their name, I long for a repose that ever is the same.

O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. For now the noonday quiet holds the hill: The grasshopper is silent in the grass: The lizard, with his shadow on the stone, Rests like a shadow, and the winds are dead. The purple flower droops: the golden bee Is lily-cradled: I alone awake. My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love, My heart is breaking, and my eyes are dim, And I am all aweary of my life.

If you're so tired we can order an ice cream cake, we can have it delived to the stage.

It's pretty tough because of all the tension and all the concentration, sitting there hour after hour. It's...exhausting.

There is a sort of waking nightmare that sets in sometimes when one has missed a sleep or two, a feeling that comes with extreme fatigue and a new sun, that the quality of the life around has changed. It is a fully articulate conviction that somehow the existence one is then leading is a branch shoot of life and is related to life only as a moving picture or a mirror-that the people, and streets, and houses are only projections from a very dim and chaotic past.

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

But there are moments when I feel I'm liquefying like an old Camembert, I'm so tired.

You look like an angel, Sleeping it off at a station. Were you only passing through?

I've gotta keep writing. But where's the next step, where do you go? But at my age, you start to get tired. You're not full of piss and vinegar. The vinegar's all gone.

Was he simply too tired to care what he said?

- All this sitting about in cafes to calm down Simply wears me out. And their idea of literature! The idiotic cut of the stanzas; the novels, full up, gross. I have lived it, and I know too much. My cafe nerves are breaking me With black, exhausting information.

I hate having those people back there sucking on me.

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

Halp! My powerful brain is blowed itself up!

I am tired of talking.

I'm tired of chasing people.

'I think I'm gonna take a seat for this one. Sometimes you just gotta take a fucking load off.' June, 2005. Hartford, Connecticut.

You look like you're ready for bed!

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.

I'm tired of Love; I'm still more tired of Rhyme. But money gives me pleasure all the time.

A little flattery will support a man through great fatigue.

I used to wake up at 4 A.M. and start sneezing, sometimes for five hours. I tried to find out what sort of allergy I had but finally came to the conclusion that it must be an allergy to consciousness.

In fact, Mr. Watson, it's a queer world, and the longer I live in it the queerer I find it. Once I thought it would be a good idea to regulate things myself and run the world as it ought to be run; but I gave it up long ago. The world's a stage, they say; but the show ain't always amusing, by a long chalk, and sometimes I wish I didn't have a reserved seat.

The day-to-day exhausted me!

I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

A slight throbbing about the temples told me that this discussion had reached saturation point.

The old man nodded, as if his neck was afraid of the weight of his head.

It's amazing how much 'mature wisdom' resembles being too tired.

It does seem so pleasant to talk with an old acquaintance who knows what you know. I see so many new folks nowadays who seem to have neither past nor future. Conversation has got to have some root in the past, or else you have got to explain every remark you make, and it wears a person out.

Wake up tired, Monday mornings suck, It's way too early to catch a bus, Why conform without a fuss, Daddy Daddy, no, I don't wanna go to school, woo!

There are magic moments, involving great physical fatigue and intense motor excitement, that produce visions of people known in the past. As I learned later from the delightful little book of the Abbe de Bucquoy, there are also visions of books as yet unwritten.

The German Army is tired. The vain effort to defeat Russia's armies has used up its equipment and reduced its morale.

'I wish you would mention the joy she had for life, that's what she gave me. It was her love of life that carried her through everything. The middle of the road was never for her - it bored her. She wanted the pinnacle of excitement. If she was happy, she wasn't just happy, she was ecstatic. And when she was sad, she was sadder then anyone. She lived eight lives in one, and yet I thought she would outlive us all. She was a great star, and a great talent, and for the rest of my life I will be proud to be Judy Garland's daughter. It wasn't suicide, it wasn't sleeping pills, it wasn't cirrhosis. I think she was just tired, like a flower that blooms and gives joy and beauty to the world and then wilts away.' ~ Liza Minnelli