Transform effort into an easy and sovereign overflowing of the soul-strength; let all thyself be conscious force. This is thy goal.
Inscribe all human effort with one word, Artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!
Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times.
It was as though even in this Nought's profound, Even in this ultimate dissolution's core, There lurked an unremembering entity, Survivor of a slain and buried past Condemned to resume the effort and the pang, Reviving in another frustrate world.
What Americans were really objecting to had nothing to do with constitutional principles. their objection was not to Parliament's constitutional right to levy certain kinds of taxes as opposed to others, but to its effort to collect any.
Evil happens without effort, naturally, inevitably; good is always the product of skill.
THERE IS NEVER ANYTHING TO PRO-DUCE. In spite of all its materialist efforts, production remains a utopia. We can wear ourselves out in materializing things, in rendering them visible, but we will never cancel the secret.
In the effort to tell a whole story, to see it whole and clear, I have had to imagine more than I have known.
Quality improves with effort according to an exponential curve.
I decline the election. It has ever been my rule through life, to observe a proportion between my efforts and my objects. I have never been remarkable for a bold, active, and sanguine pursuit of advantages that are personal to myself.
I know of no condition worse than that of the man who has little or no light on the supreme religious questions, and who at the same time is making no effort to come to the light.
It excites the pancreas to fresh efforts.
In spite of the honestest efforts to annihilate my I-ity, or merge it in what the world doubtless considers my better half, I still find myself a self-subsisting, and, alas! self-seeking me.
Practise in everything a certain nonchalance that shall conceal design and show that what is done and said is done without effort and almost without thought.
What was any art but an effort to make a sheath, a mould in which to imprison for a moment the shining, elusive element which is life itself life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose?