Quotes About Suffering

I did not know it was such pain to die; I thought that life had taken all the agonies to itself.

MRS ARBUTHNOT For me the world is shriveled to a palm's breath, and where I walk there are thorns. HESTER It shall not be so. We shall somewhere find green valleys and fresh waters, and if we weep, well, we shall weep together.

And yet it was not the mystery, but the comedy of suffering that struck him; its absolute uselessness, its grotesque want of meaning. How incoherent everything seemed! How lacking in all harmony! He was amazed at the discord between the shallow optimism of the day, and the real facts of existence. He was still very young.

I often wonder what would have happened to those in pain if, instead of Christ, there had been a Christian.

there is about sorrow an intense, an extraordinary reality. I have said of myself that I was one who stood in symbolic relations to the art and culture of my age. There is not a single wretched man in this wretched place along with me who does not stand in symbolic relation to the very secret of life. For the secret of life is suffering. It is what is hidden behind everything.

Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on... The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plentitude.

The hand upon his shoulder weighed like a hand of lead. It was intolerable. It seemed to crush him.

I can sympathize with everything except suffering. I cannot sympathize with that. It is too ugly, too horrible, too distressing.

But you will tell me this is an inartistic age, and we are an inartistic people, and the artist suffers much in this nineteenth century of ours. Of course he does. I, of all men, am not going to deny that. But remember that there has never been an artistic age, or an artistic people since the beginning of the world. The artist has always been, and will always be, an exquisite exception.

Even when one has been wounded by it, Harry? asked the duchess after a pause. Especially when one has been wounded by it, answered Lord Henry.

El sufrimiento -por curioso que esto pueda parecerte- es el medio por el que existimos, y es el único medio por el que somos conscientes de existir; y el recuerdo del sufrimiento en el pasado nos es necesario como garantía, evidencia, de nuestra identidad continuada.

El dolor es una herida que sangra en cuanto la roza cualquier mano que no sea la del amor, y que sangra, aunque ya sin sufrir cuando esta la toca.

But this murder--was it to dog him all his life? Was he always to be burdened by his past? Was he really

I suffered immensely. Then it passed away. I cannot repeat an emotion. No one can, except sentimentalists.

Come down, O Christ, and help me! reach thy hand For I am drowning in a stormier sea Than Simon on thy lake of Galilee: The wine of life is spilt upon the sand, My heart is as some famine-murdered land Whence all good things have perished utterly, And well I know my soul in Hell must lie If this night before God's throne should stand.

Out of my nature has come wild despair; an abandonment to grief that was piteous even to look at; terrible and impotent rage; bitterness and scorn; anguish that wept aloud; misery that could find no voice; sorrow that was dumb. I have passed through every possible mood of suffering. Better than Wordsworth himself I know what Wordsworth meant when he said—'Suffering is permanent, obscure, and dark And has the nature of infinity.

Lo que tengo ante mí es mi pasado. He de conseguir mirarlo con otros ojos, hacer que el mundo lo mire con otros ojos, hacer que Dios lo mire con otros ojos. Eso no lo puedo conseguir soslayándolo, ni menospreciándolo, ni alabándolo, ni negándolo. Únicamente se puede hacer aceptándolo plenamente como una parte inevitable de la evolución de mi vida y mi carácter: inclinando la cabeza a todo lo que he sufrido.

Ruhun ac?s?n? ancak duyular al?r, nas?l ki duyular?n ac?s?n? alabilecek tek ?ey de ruhtur.

It is said that all martyrdoms seemed mean to the looker-on.

Yüzeysel hüzünler, yüzeysel aÅŸklar uzun ömürlüdür. Büyük aÅŸklar, büyük ac?larsa kendi büyüklüklerine kurban olurlar.

Il en est toujours ainsi des natures subtiles et raffinées. Il faut que leurs passions ploient ou broient, qu'elles choisissent de tuer ou de mourir. Seules ont la vie longue les peines légères et les légères amours. Les amours et les peines profondes succombent à leur propre plénitude.

So the swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets...

He had uttered a mad wish that he himself might remain untarnished, and the face on the canvas bear the burden of his passions and his sins; that the painted image might be seared with the lines of suffering and thought, and that he might keep all the delicate bloom and loveliness of his then just conscious boyhood.

Bu gece günceme yazaca??m. Neyi? AteÅŸten eli yanan çocuÄŸun ateÅŸi sevdiÄŸini.