Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.
Zelda FitzgeraldRead
It seemed to Alabama that, reaching her goal, she would drive the devils that had driven her - that, in proving herself, she would achieve that peace which she imagined went only in surety of one’s self - that she would be able, through the medium of the dance, to command her emotions, to summon love or pity or happiness at will, having provided a channel through which they might flow. She drove herself mercilessly, and the summer dragged on.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the struggle for self-empowerment and emotional mastery through personal achievement.
In this quote, Zelda Fitzgerald illustrates the internal conflict of a woman striving to reach her goals while battling her own demons. She believes that by achieving success and mastering her emotions through dance, she can attain a sense of peace and control over her life, yet the relentless pursuit of these aspirations leads to a rather merciless self-discipline, hinting at the toll such ambitions can take on one's well-being.
In practice
During a motivational speech about overcoming personal barriers.
Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.
She refused to be bored chiefly because she wasn't boring.
The night you gave me my birthday party... you were a young Lieutenant and I was a fragrant phantom, wasn't I? And it was a radiant night, a night of soft conspiracy and the trees agreed that it was all going to be for the best.
A southern moon is a sodden moon, and sultry. When it swamps the fields and the rustling sandy roads and the sticky honeysuckle hedges in its sweet stagnation, your fight to hold on to reality is like a protestation against a first waft of ether.
There seemed to be some heavenly support beneath his shoulder blades that lifted his feet from the ground in ecstatic suspension, as if he secretly enjoyed the ability to fly but was walking as a compromise to convention.
I remember every single spot of light that ever gouged a shadow beside your bones.
When you win a race like this the feeling is very, very good. There have been times when I have been flat-out to finish sixth, but you can't see that from the outside. In 1980 I finished three or four times in seventh place. I pushed like mad, yet everyone was gathered around the winner and they were thinking that I was just trundling around. But that's motor racing. So in fact the only thing you can judge in this sport is the long term. You can judge a career or a season, but not one race.
You have to fight to reach your dream. You have to sacrifice and work hard for it.
The last three or four reps is what makes the muscle grow.
I don't care if the whole world is against you or teasing you or saying you are not gonna make it. Believe in yourself, no matter what.
Nobody's going to do your life for you. You have to do it yourself, whether you're rich or poor, out of money or raking it in, the beneficiary of ridiculous fortune or terrible injustice. And you have to do it no matter what is true. No matter what is hard. No matter what unjust, sad, sucky things befall you. Self-pity is a dead-end road. You make the choice to drive down it. It's up to you to decide to stay parked there or to turn around and drive out.
And this President wakes up every morning, looks out across America and is proud to announce, 'It could be worse.' It could be worse? Is that what it means to be an American? It could be worse? Of course not. What defines us as Americans is our unwavering conviction that we know it must be better.
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