Quotes about Burden

Let us no more contend, nor blame each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive, In offices of love, how we may lighten each other's burden.

Worry is an old man with bended head, carrying a load of feathers which he thinks are lead.

I do not understand how a man can be a true believer, in whom sin is not the greatest burden, sorrow and trouble.

Liberty is often a heavy burden on a man. It involves the necessity for perpetual choice which is the kind of labor men have always dreaded.

The care of God for us is a great thing, if a man believe it at heart: it plucks the burden of sorrow from him.

We all make mistakes. There's a place we can take those to. There's a thing we can nail them to." Her eyes close for a moment and she sees the cross in the shadows of the fading light. "You can nail it to the cross and let it go, Dan. You can let someone else take that burden.

So your desire is to do nothing? Well, you shall not have a week, a day, an hour, free from oppression. You shall not be able to lift anything without agony. Every passing minute will make your muscles crack. What is feather to others will be a rock to you. The simplest things will become difficult. Life will become monstrous about you. To come, to go, to breathe, will be so many terrible tasks for you. Your lungs will feel like a hundred-pound weight.

Man has upon him his flesh, which is at once his burden and his temptation. He drags it with him and yields to it. He must watch it, cheek it, repress it, and obey it only at the last extremity. There may be some fault even in this obedience; but the fault thus committed is venial; it is a fall, but a fall on the knees which may terminate in prayer.

Smoking blood, over-filled cemeteries, mothers in tears,—these are formidable pleaders. When the earth is suffering from too heavy a burden, there are mysterious groanings of the shades, to which the abyss lends an ear.

W]e must never allow the future to collapse under the burden of memory.

There is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels for someone, for someone, pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echos.

Is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid?