I ask for nothing but to live in my suffering.

I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.

Today I shall give myself in sacrifice and work; for tomorrow I will have nothing to give and there will be none to receive.

I have no other possessions of value but my soul.

I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat. We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering.
You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: Victory. Victory at all costs — Victory in spite of all terror — Victory, however long and hard the road may be, for without victory there is no survival. But I take my task with buoyancy and hope. Come, then, let us go forward with our united strenght.

I've nothing, am nothing, shall be nothing, and yet I take nothing.

Nothing ever comes to me, that is worth having, except as the result of hard work.

I have nothing, I owe a great deal, and the rest I leave to the poor.

I am so fed up and joyless that not only have I nothing to fill my soul, I cannot even conceive of anything that could possibly satisfy it - alas, not even the bliss of heaven.

bathed itself with tears of agony

Nothing on this earth is worth
buying at the price of human blood.

It is difficult to put into words what I suffered-the longing that seemed to be tearing my heart out by the roots, the dreadful sense of being alone in an empty universe, the agonies that thrilled through me as if the blood were running ice-cold in my veins, the disgust with living, the impossibility of dying. Shakespeare himself never described this torture; but he counts it, in Hamlet, among the terrible of all the evils of existence.

I had stopped composing; my mind seemed to become feebler as my feelings grew more intense. I did nothing. One power was left me-to suffer.

Of most dreadful suffering, I am the cause.

Life grants nothing to us mortals without hard work.