Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Unburdened. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Unburdened Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including Gabrielle,George Crabbe,Amish Tripathi,Nelson Mandela,Michael Cunningham for you to enjoy and share.
Troubled is a polite word for what I am.
To sigh, yet not recede; to grieve, yet not repent.
His burden didn't feel any lighter. but he felt strong enough to carry it
Adversity cleanses the lethargies of man
She is overtaken by a sensation of unbeing. There is no other word for it.
I have been made to learn that the doom and burden of our life is bound forever on man's shoulders; and when the attempt is made to cast it off, it but returns upon us with more unfamiliar and more awful pressure.
Unwinds didn't go out with a bang-they didn't even go out with a whimper. they went out with the silence of a candle flame pinched between two fingers.
No longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from.
O we are wearied of this sense of guilt,
Wearied of pleasure's paramour despair,
Wearied of every temple we have built,
Wearied of every unanswered right, unanswered prayer,
For man is weak; God sleeps: and heaven is high:
One fiery-colored moment: one great love: and lo! we die.
As so often happens, the thing left undone tires you most of all, you only feel rested when it has been accomplished.
I am whelmed, and not overly whelmed, just whelmed about a lot of facets in life - just how fragile life is and the different challenges you have in life, phobias about things.
Sometimes our arms are so full with the burdens we carry that it hinders our view of the load those around us are staggering beneath.
Something unappeased, unappeasable, is within me.
Given in love. Defiled by remorse.
I am tired of myself in every way. All things, deep down to the secret of their roots, are stained by the color of my weariness.
Repose, v.i. To cease from troubling.
Unwinds exist in the constant shadow of betrayal.
Dizzied, thrilled, depressed by remembering ...
Tender Ember
... Barred and branded
to be forever unloved
I was a tender ember
seeking solace from above ...
Me this uncharted 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.
Confounded, though immortal. But his doom, reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought both of lost happiness and lasting pain torments him.
Can every anguish calmly bear.
I grieved, but a part of me felt a lightening of a burden that I had carried all my life: that I could never be worthy of them, that I would always disappoint or fail them. As an unknown slave in the fields of the baron, I knew the worst was over. I had failed them. At least I could not do so again
Weightless inside a gem, her heart unchained like a pardoned prisoner.
I'm sweetly broken, wholly surrendered.
It had borne the burden, it had earned the honor -
Things unused burden and beset.
Blessed is the memory of those who have kept themselves unspotted from the world. Yet more blessed and more dear the memory of those who have kept themselves unspotted in the world.
Free of who I was, free of presence, free of dangerous fear, hope, free of mountainous wanting.
The man coming back from the hard mountain trip is a wiser being, calmer and radiating inside. I'd say momentary liberated.
A grateful mind by owing owes not, but still pays, at once indebted and discharged; what burden then?
Frustration mingled with despair in my
heart.
an agony of humiliated indecision
Oh, I am very weary, Though tears no longer flow; My eyes are tired of weeping, My heart is sick of woe.
Feeble, I'd become afflicted
And my agony had no closure,
To love I'd become immune
Despite my abundant exposure
Only the unprepared are overcome by pressure
The fascination of what's difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent Spontaneous joy and natural content Out of my heart.
Unhappy is a nice word.
Dead.
Even in the silence of my mind I cannot think the word. I cannot acknowledge this most obvious and terrible of truths.
I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail, poisoned in the bushes,
blown out on the trail; hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn,
"Come in," she said, "I'll give ya shelter from the storm."
I walked, floated, lighter - forty miles, my biggest day yet. I'd lifted the burden of guilt and shame off my body. I held my new hard-won wisdom, the gift three months of walking in the wilderness had carried me to: compassion for my younger self - forgiveness for my innocence.
There is death.
Making his way through all of it.
On the surface: unflappable, unwavering.
Below: unnerved, untied, and undone.
Words strain, crack, and sometime break, under the burden.
A woman who lives with the stress of an overwhelmed schedule will often ache with the sadness of an underwhelmed soul.
Women have made me; and also unmade.
Up here on this forgotten elbow of land, I have nothing to lose, and though I am more afraid now than I have ever been, I am relieved, I am unburdened, I am ascending.
Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair:
I forgot to sup
annoyance
from his glass full of
mingled dread and rage
Now let me take
a small draught of solace
from my own little cup
full of predicaments!
From the poem- Draught
Behind tranquillity lies conquered unhappiness.
Ungrace causes cracks to fissure open between mother and daughter, father and son, brother and sister, between scientists, and prisoners, and tribes, and races. Left alone, cracks widen, and for the resulting chasms of ungrace there is only one remedy: the frail rope-bridge of forgiveness.
I have fallen,
for your words.
They are like,
a gossamer cobweb,
I have been,
embroiled,
decoyed,
snared into!
Incapacitated.
I fail to escape.
I fail to liberate.
Your words,
didn't redeem,
made me a,
captive instead.
Pg.9 In my heart there's a peaceful anguish, and my calm is made of resignation.
Being exhausted, yet keeping up the pursuit.' (Judges 8:4) Even after what I had said of wanting out, even after that humiliation, the physical exhaustion, the deep despair I felt, those words were my new marching orders. The next morning, I swung my rucksack over my shoulders and was off again.
There is no elegy for those who have been dispossessed of their anger
what remains is a future carved out of banality instead of blood.
If you are burdened with depressing feelings of guilt or disappointment, of failure or shame, there is a cure.
I am tired with my own life and the lives of those after me,
I am dying in my own death and the deaths of those after me.
In war, there are no unwounded
Alone!-that worn-out word, So idly spoken, and so coldly heard; Yet all that poets sing and grief hath known Of hopes laid waste, knells in that word ALONE!
I have passed the mountain peak and my soul is soaring in the firmament of Complete and unbounded freedom; I am in comfort, I am in peace.
In struggling against anguish one never produces serenity; the struggle against anguish only produces new forms of anguish.
My voice is clotted with unshed tears.
I am not sad, nor I am satisfied and made my peace with circumstances, never, I don't compromise.
The major challenge of walking alone without guidance you get late. You reach, because you didn't quit walking but when you reach there, you see a crowd whining at you.
Today I make time to release any burdens that I carry. One by one I release them into the atmosphere, until my body is in a complete state of calm
When a heavy weight presses the soul to the lowest level at which endurance is possible, there is an instant and desperate effort of every physical and moral nerve to throw off the weight; and hence the heaviest anguish often precedes a return tide of joy and courage.
I have been held in an embrace so strong by the journey that I find I have relinquished the will to arrive.
My aloneness had never bothered me; I hadn't even been aware of it. But now it overwhelmed me. The awareness washed over me with painful sharpness and deep grief. Now that I had company.
Armed I am with love. Disarmed I am.
It is my duty to voice the sufferings of humankind, the never-ending sufferings heaped mountain high. This is my task, but it is not an easy one to fulfill.
A deep distress hath humanised my soul.
A mind unruffled by the vagaries of fortune, from sorrow freed, from defilements cleansed, from fear liberated - this is the greatest blessing.
No, I'm not anguished and tormented.
Life was resumed, and anxious living blew away as if it had not been. I could not breathe deep enough or long enough. It was a return to happiness.
A great burden was lifted from my shoulders the day I realized that no one owes me anything.
To relax is not to collapse, but simply to undo tension.
Utter despair, impossible to pull myself together; Only when I have become satisfied with my sufferings can I stop.
No one ever fell under the burden of the day; it is only when the burden of tomorrow is added that the load becomes unbearable.
[Redacted] felt a certain heaviness descend upon his shoulders and a loneliness rise to his throat, and instead of embracing the familial moment, he turned away, overwhelmed by it.
An unfinished feeling.
Suddenly I'm as if cast out,
and this solitude surrounds me
as something vast and unbounded,
when my feeling, standing on the hills
of my breasts, cries out for wings
or for an end.
People become attached to their burdens sometimes more than the burdens are attached to them.
I was feeling like a rock in a stream with the water passing by me, not fully engaging in life with this heavy burden hanging over me.
The day exhausts me, irritates me. It is brutal, noisy. I struggle to get out of bed, I dress wearily and, against my inclination, I go out. I find each step, each movement, each gesture, each word, each thought as tiring as if I were lifting a crushing weight.
There is a mental fatigue which is a spurious kind of remorse, and has all the anguish of the nobler feeling. It is an utter weariness and prostration of spirit, a sickness of heart and mind, a bitter longing to lie down and die.
Deep breath ... I am peaceful, I am strong.
I was returning with myself whole and unbroken - limbs, mind, and spirit. I had discarded pride, that useless burden of self-importance
But the truth is that I don't feel like I can carry anyone but myself right now. The streets are empty. I am empty. Or, no
I am full of pain. It's my life that's empty.
I feel empty, not because of sadness, but because of relief, all the tension flowing out of me.
I was tired of acting free when I was not, tired of acting strong when I was in fact weak. I hungered more for freedom than I cared for the approval of those around me. I had already discovered that their approval could never set me free.
Life's burdens may only be overcome by a summoning of inner resources: by a dependence not upon others, but upon the qualities of spirit and mind.
Despaired of any rest or contentment in a world grown too busy for beauty and too shrewd for dreams
Much unhappiness has come from things left unsaid
You erased my famine, unpicked my anger
Your energy charges my voice, it radiates my heart;
Now I am alive with the ore of words pouring
From my lips like molten lava glittering with joy.
I felt the weight fall away from me. I lost the weight that I'd been carrying around since I was a teenager. Shame weighs a lot more than flesh and bone. Within
Feel like (I've been) released from prison.
We are disposable tonight.
We are regrettable tonight.
We can't touch one another without the world imploding, tonight.
Relief is a short-lived emotion, passive and thin. The agony of doubt disappears, leaving little memory of how it really felt. Life aligns behind the new truth.
They who in trouble untroubled are
Will trouble trouble itself.
I was betrayed, one more day, of my short life.
You were carried away, had no shame, to suffocate my being.
I was me, but you weren't you.
You were sticking to me like a scab.
So, I peeled you away...
Bled for days...
And stepped out of myself.
Failure's sleeve cannot help but brush against the back of gratified desires and insatiability is inevitably left to gaze with smoldering eyes into the wise, peaceful eyes of a person who finds satiation within himself.
Shaking off, with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the leaden weight of routine, the cloak of many cares and the slavery of home, man feels once more happy.