I sometimes feel tired. But there are so many reasons for being tired.
Which would your men rather be, tired, or dead?
They were pretty tired by now of course; but not what I’d call bitterly tired – only slow and feeling very dreamy and tired as one does when one is coming to the end of a long day in the open.
I'm tired, it's raining, and I am not a waterlily.
But we were all feeling that bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it having been an evening of some small energy expenditure.
I have been tight as a tick! Fried as a mink! Stiff as a goat!
I am worn to a raveling.
I'm not tired of the work... I'm tired in the work.
"And tired" always followed sick. Worst beating I ever got in my life, my mother said, "I am just sick..." And I said, "And tired." I don't remember anything after that.
I'm tired and I'm sick to death of being without you.
Being tired isn't the same as being rich, but most times it's close enough.
I'm too tired to speak in English.
I am wearied, as if I lacked a home to go to.
I’m just kinda tired. Like a monkey in the rain.
I only know that I feel tired, antiquated; I feel as though I had been living a long, long time.
By the time I get to the locker room, I'm done.
I'm tired a lot. I travel a lot.
I'm so tired, Katniss.
You look tired." "Yeah," I agreed, and shrugged. "Near-death experiences do that to me . . .
You look as if you had lived on duty and it hadn't agreed with you.
He felt like an old sponge steeped in paraffin and left in the sun to dry.
Tired, tired with nothing, tired with everything, tired with the world’s weight he had never chosen to bear.
He looks tired, like someone walked on his skin and left footprints.
I have a lot on my plate. I'm not going to lie about it, I'm tired. I'm really tired but I'm also very happy with my life.
I'm old, I'm rich and I'm tired.
