Quotes About Suffering

Preguntaréis por qué su poesía no nos habla del sueño, de las hojas, de los grandes volcanes de su país natal? Venid a ver la sangre por las calles, venid a ver la sangre por las calles, venid a ver la sangre por las calles!

while inside, a ferocious love wound around and around me-till it pierced me with its thorns, its sword, slashing a seared road through my heart 100 Love Sonnets by Pablo Neruda, translated by Stephen Tapscott

From one hell to another, what difference? In the howling of your legions, in the holy milk of the mothers of Spain, in the milk and the bosoms trampled along the roads, there is one more village, one more silence, a broken door. Here

En esta historia sólo yo me muero y moriré de amor porque te quiero, porque te quiero, amor, a sangre y fuego.

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me. - Every Day You Play (Juegas Todos Los Días)

Huye. Aléjate. Extínguete. Mi alma debe estar sola. Debe crucificarse, hacerse astillas, rodar, verterse, contaminarse sola, abierta a la marea de los llantos, ardiendo en el ciclón de las furias, erguida entre los cerros y los pájaros, aniquilarse, exterminarse sola, abandonada y única como un faro de espanto.

La timidité est une condition étrange du coeur, une catégorie, une dimension qui débouche sur la solitude. C'est aussi une souffrance dont on ne peut se défaire, comme si l'on avait deux épidermes et que la deuxième peau intérieure s'irritait et se contractait devant la vie. J'avoue que j'ai vécu

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me. my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.

And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy. It climbs the same way on damp walls. You are to blame for this cruel sport. They are fleeing from my dark lair. You fill everything, you fill everything. Before you they peopled the solitude that you occupy, and they are more used to my sadness than you are. ...But my words become stained with your love. You occupy everything, you occupy everything.

Ve bana diyordu ki: GittiÄŸin yerde ac?lar?m?zdan söz et, anlat kardeÅŸim, aÅŸa??da bu cehennemde yaÅŸayan kardeÅŸinden söz et

En carta del 9 de septiembre de 1817 a su londinense iniciador masónico, lord MacDuff, escribe San Martín, acongojado: "¡Qué sentimiento de dolor, mi querido amigo, debe despertar en vuestro pecho el destino de estas bellas regiones! Parecería que los españoles estuvieran empecinados en convertirlas en un desierto, tal es el carácter de la guerra que hacen. Ni edades ni sexos escapan al patíbulo".

The heart knows no pain sharper than love's arrow.

Language doesn't heal terror and if it brings us closer to imagining the sufferer's experience, this too doesn't necessarily make us feel greater compassion, but desire for further sensation. If we cannot articulate pain beyond inspiring in the listener a need for revenge, we only speak of and to the body.

We are all stumbling and falling under our own crosses, those carved from our hands, our sweat, and those not of our own making.

Ä°nsan?n yaÅŸam?n ne olduÄŸunu kavrayan bir varl?k olduÄŸunu söyleyenler yan?l?yor. Anlama yetisi pek bir iÅŸe yaramaz; konuÅŸuyor olmas? aptall???n? yok etmez. Ancak insan kardeÅŸinin ac?s?n? sezip duyumsayamaya gelince, aptall??? hayvanlar?nkini geçer.

But there is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. But it's better to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing what you're fighting for

Waiting Hurts. Forgetting Hurts. But not knowing which decision to take is the worst of suffering.

The entire universe is God's cosmic motion picture, and that individuals are merely actors in the divine play who change roles through reincarnation; mankind's deep suffering is rooted in identifying too closely with one's current role, rather than with the movie's director, or God.

Remember, people suffer only because they think things ought to be different from what they are. A

He who concentrates on one isolated wave of life will suffer, because that wave is unstable and will not last.

Only the shallow man loses responsiveness to the woes of others' lives, as he sinks into narrow suffering of his own.

Through delusion you are perceiving yourself as a bundle of flesh and bones, which at best is a nest of troubles.

We are in a dream state. The only way to wake up is to refuse to recognize anything as reality except God. Otherwise you will again and again sink to your knees in a mud of suffering that is of your own making, until you realize that neither good fortune nor evil fortune is real, that He alone is real. Then all earthly delusions (disease and health, joy and sorrow, life and death) will pass away.

By ignoble whips of pain, man is driven at last into the Infinite Presence, whose beauty alone should lure him.