She and her surviving siblings — Branwell, Emily, and Anne – created their own literary fictional worlds, and began chronicling the lives and struggles of the inhabitants of these imaginary kingdoms.

She has since revealed her personal struggles with anxiety and depression.

She also continues to deal with grief from Tara's death, and struggles with the dark forces of magic that put her in opposition to Buffy.

She occupied herself with the building of churches and monasteries, preferring to distance herself from the power struggles of the court.

She is high spirited and friendly, but struggles to maintain femininity.

She acquires a sophisticated wardrobe and, through his offhand comments about attractive women, sheds her provincial mannerisms, even as she struggles with the moral implications of being a kept woman.

She tells fellow stew Paula ( Nancy Rennick ) about the trouble, who then struggles to fight back panic.

She struggles in a very human way when she discovers the truth about her origins, and later endures problems with self-harm and kleptomania.

She was raised as a Catholic but left the church at age fifteen, and her struggles to figure out how much of that culture to pass on to her children fueled the prominence of religion in her work.

She wrote several works chronicling her struggles in her youth as she was pulled back and forth between the influences of dominant American culture and her own Native American heritage, as well as books in English that brought traditional Native American stories to a widespread white readership for one of the first times.

She is in love with her classmate Arnold because he was the first person to be nice to her, but she struggles to keep her affections a secret.

In Andrew Bergman's Isn't She Great, a highly fictionalized account of the life and career of author Jacqueline Susann, she played alongside Nathan Lane and Stockard Channing, portraying Susann with her early struggles as an aspiring actress relentlessly hungry for fame, her relationship with press agent Irving Mansfield, her success as the author of Valley of the Dolls, and her battle with and subsequent death from breast cancer.

She also struggles to maintain a personal life.

She struggles throughout the series to keep her badly behaved boys in check while maintaining a job at a Lucky Aide drugstore.

She struggles to become a teacher, but wants more out of life.

She struggles in school but can earn a decent grade when she sets her mind to it.

She is one of the few to recognize that Batman is an impostor, later being present when the true Batman returns to the fold as he struggles against his successor, his willingness to save even criminals confirming his true identity for Selina.

She discussed her career and personal struggles caused by controversial, politically-driven issues.

She cites this period of sexual abuse for her subsequent struggles with alcohol addiction.

She struggles with this realization until she thinks of the exact best way to tell Ephram how she feels.

She discusses the struggles of Jeannette Corbiere Lavell and Yvonne Bédard in the early 1970s, two women who had both lost their Indian status for marrying white men.

She also claims that " whereas Africa struggles to find the ways of growth and thus future prosperity, whereas starvation or disease decimate millions of innocent souls, whereas skillfully maintained conflicts discourage the most dynamic and talented African elites, French-African relations are marred by an unforgivable misdemeanour: corruption ".

She struggles against them and gasps as Babe dashes past.

She suffers from no visible ailment, but stares sadly out the window, which could refer to both Woolf's struggles with depression and her essay, A Room of One's Own.

She shares a bit about her own pain and struggles and the Native American philosophies that guide her.

She helped him with the dishes, then he brought more water in from the spring before it got dark.

She wiped it off with the sleeve of her coat.

She remembered little of her previous journey there with Grace, and she could but hope that her dedication to her mission would enable her to accomplish it.

She regarded them as signs that she was nearing the glen she sought, and she was glad to at last be doing something positive in her unenunciated, undefined struggle with the mountain and its darkling inhabitants.

She was standing with her back to the glass door.

She raised a protesting hand with a startled air.

She had touched her face, truly a noble and pure face, only with a lip salve which made her lips glisten but no redder than usual.

She cackled with mirth, showing the stumps of betel-stained teeth.

She had driven up with her husband in a convertible with Eastern license plates, although the two drivers knew nothing at the moment about that.

She would look at Jack, with that hidden something in her eyes, and Jack would see the Woman and become breathless and a little sick.

She said, with the solicitude of a middle-aged woman for her only child.

She munched little ginger cakes called mulatto's belly and kept her green, somewhat hypnotic eyes fixed on a light-colored male who was prancing wildly with a 5-foot king snake wrapped around his bronze neck.

She said with intense feeling: `` Come near, let me feel your arms.

She daubed at her swimming eyes with a lacy handkerchief and said with obvious emotion: `` That poor boy!!

She, too, is concerned with `` the becoming, the process of realization '', but she does not think in terms of subtle variations of spatial or temporal patterns.

She has rarely been photographed with him and, except for Carl's seventy-fifth anniversary celebration in Chicago in 1953, she has not attended the dozens of banquets, functions, public appearances, and dinners honoring him -- all of this upon her insistence.

She opened the boxes with a tear in her eye and a sad smile on her face.

She ended her letter with the assurance that she considered his friendship for her daughter and herself to be an honor, from which she could not part `` without still more pain ''.

She was Ellen Aldridge, a widow of good repute who was employed by Gorton's wife and lived with the family.

She had to clean the glass on the display cases in the butcher shop, help her brother scrub the cutting tables with wire brushes, mop the floors, put down new sawdust on the floors and help check the outgoing orders.

She had been picked up by the Russians, questioned in connection with some pamphlets, sentenced to life imprisonment for espionage.

She gave me the names of some people who would surely help pay for the flowers and might even march up to the monument with me.

She had, with her own work-weary hands, put seeds in the ground, watched them sprout, bud, blossom, and get ready to bear.