How weak and fruitless must be any word of mine.

the failure of hope has a name: it is called suffering.

When the possibilities themselves had accordingly turned stale, when the secret of the gods had grown faint, had perhaps even quite evaporated, that, and that only, was failure. It wouldn’t have been failure to be bankrupt, dishonoured, pilloried, hanged; it was failure not to be anything.

I falter where I firmly trod,
And falling with my weight of cares
Upon the great world's altar-stairs
That slope thro' darkness up to God,

I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope,
And gather dust and chaff, and call
To what I feel is Lord of all,
And faintly trust the larger hope.

It is when those who are not strong enough have made some moderate amount of progress that they fail and give up...

All the scholastic scaffolding
falls, as a ruined edifice,
before one single word — faith.

Утверждая, что ты чего-то не можешь, ты лишаешься всемогущества

There is prodigious strength in sorrow and despair.

But ’tis done — all words are idle — Words from me are vainer still;
But the thoughts we cannot bridle 55
Force their way without the will.

Fare thee well! thus disunited,
Torn from every nearer tie,
Sear’d in heart, and lone, and blighted,
More than this I scarce can die.

When we have lost everything, including hope, life becomes a disgrace, and death a duty.

Words strain,
Crack and sometimes break, under the burden,
Under the tension, slip, slide, perish,
Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place,
Will not stay still.

There is only one thing that I dread: not to be worthy of my sufferings.

237. — No one should be praised for his goodness if he has not strength enough to be wicked. All other goodness is but too often an idleness or powerlessness of will.

The feeling that I was not worthy of her finished me.