Quotes About Suffering

All things of grace and beauty such that one holds them to one's heart have a common provenance in pain.

What loomed was a flayed man with his brisket tacked open like a cooling beef and his skull peeled, blue and bulbous and palely luminescent, black grots his eyeholes and bloody mouth gaped tongueless. The traveler had seized his fingers in his jaws, but it was not alone this horror that he cried. Beyond the flayed man dimly adumbrate another figure paled, for his surgeons move about the world even as you and I.

Your life is set upon you like a dog.

You wear out, Ed Tom. All the time you spend tryin to get back what's been took from you there's more goin out the door. After a while you just try and get a tourniquet on it.

Do you wish you would die? No. But I might wish I had died. When you're alive you've always got that ahead of you. Or you might wish you'd never been born. Well. Beggars cant be choosers.

They sat contemplating towns to come and the poor fanfare of trumpet and drum and the crude boards upon which their destinies were inscribed for these people were no less bound and indentured and they watched like the prefiguration of their own ends the carbonized skulls of their enemies incandescing before them bright as blood among the coals.

If there was a heaven, was it nor founded upon the writhing bodies of the damned?

I think if you were Satan and you were settin around tryin to think up somethin that would just bring the human race to its knees what you would probably come up with is narcotics

Almighty God, if it aint too far out of the way of things in your eternal plan do you reckon we could have a little rain down here.

People will tell you it was Vietnam brought this country to its knees. But I never believed that. It was already in bad shape. Vietnam was just the icin on the cake. We didnt have nothin to give to em to take over there. If we'd sent em without rifles I dont know as they'd of been all that much worse off. You cant go to war like that. You cant go to war without God. I dont know what is goin to happen when the next one comes. I surely dont.

That good luck might be no such thing. There were few nights lying in the dark that he did not envy the dead.

Well. I think maybe it's harder to lose just one thing than to lose everything.

Chigurh shot him in the face. Everything that Wells had ever known or thought or loved drained slowly down the wall behind him. His mother's face, his First Communion, women he had known. The faces of men as they died on their knees before him. The body of a child dead in a roadside ravine in another country.

Only that man who has offered up himself entire to the blood of war, who has been to the floor of the pit and seen horror in the round and learned at least that it speaks to his inmost heart, only that man can dance.

He in the limbo of the Christless righteous, I in a terrestrial hell.

Se vuoi aiutare chi è nei guai, devi andare dove stanno i guai. C'è poco da scegliere.

Where men can´t live gods fare no better

Nessuna lista di cose da fare. Ogni giornata sufficiente a se stessa. Ogni ora. Non c'è un dopo. Il dopo è già qui. Tutte le cose piene di grazia e bellezza che ci portiamo nel cuore hanno un'origine comune nel dolore. Nascono dal cordoglio e dalle ceneri. Ecco, sussurrò al bambino addormentato. Io ho te.

The kid looked at the man. His head was strangely narrow and his hair was plastered up with mud in a bizarre and primitive coiffure. On his forehead were burned the letters H T and lower and almost between the eyes the letter F and these markings were splayed and garish as if the iron had been left too long. When he turned to look at the kid the kid could see that he had no ears.

People will go to strange lengths to avoid the suffering they have coming. The world is full of people who should have been more willing to weep.

There's data in the world available only to those who have reached a certain level of wretchedness. You dont know what's down there if you havent been down there.

My life is ghastly

They stood among their horses in the squalid little alameda while the wind ransacked the trees and the birds nesting in the gray twilight cried out and clutched the limbs and the snow swirled and blew across the little square and shrouded the shapes of the mud buildings beyond and made mute the cries of the vendors who'd followed them.

When people want to be reimbursed for their pain they seldom are.