Quotes About Suffering

and your grandfather said, 'Suffer little children to come unto Me': and what did He mean by that? how, if He meant that little children should need to be suffered to approach Him, what sort of earth had He created; that if they had to suffer in order to approach Him, what sort of Heaven did He have?)

Yes, we laughed, because I have learned this at least during these four years: that it really requires an empty stomach to laugh with, that only when you are hungry or frightened do you extract some ultimate essence out of laughing just as the empty stomach extracts the ultimate essence out of alcohol.

I love, I will accept no substitute; ...; if happy I can be I will, if suffer I must I can.

I reckon a man in a tight might let Bill Varner patch him up like a mule, but I be damned if the man that'd let Anse Bundren treat him with raw cement aint got more spare legs than I have.

If it could just be a hell beyond that: the clean flame the two of us more than dead. Then you will have only me then only me then the two of us amid the pointing and the horror beyond the clean flame... ... Only you and me then amid the pointing and the horror walled by the clean flame

sardonic cerebral pity of the intelligent for any human injustice or folly or suffering

Dajem ti sat, ne da se prise?aš vremena, ve? da bi ga ponekad mogao na trenutak zaboraviti, da ne izgubiš dah pokušavaju?i da ga osvojiš. Jer bitke se nikad ne dobijaju. ?ak se i ne biju. Bojno polje samo otkriva ?oveku njegovu ludost i o?ajanje, a pobeda je uvek samo iluzija filozofa i glupaka... Moglo bi se pomisliti da ?e se nesre?a jednog dana umoriti, ali onda samo vreme postaje naša nesre?a.

not even as three women, but merely as three creatures who still possessed the need to eat but took no pleasure in it, the need to sleep but from no joy in weariness or regeneration

But who knows why a man, though suffering, clings, above all the other well members, to the arm or leg which he knows must come off?

But Uncle Gavin says it don't take many words to tell the sum of any human experience; that somebody has already done it in eight: He was born, he suffered and he died.

Meet Mrs. Bundren, he says.

They came on. I opened the gate and they stopped. turning. I was trying to say, and I caught her, trying to say, and she screamed and I was trying to say and trying and the bright shapes were going again. They were going up the hill to where it fell away and tried to cry. But when I breathed in, I couldn't breathe out again to cry, and I tried to keep from falling off the hill and I fell off the hill into the bright, whirling shapes.

Podría haber sido que mediante una conjunción planetaria todo el tiempo y la injusticia y el dolor se hicieran oír por un instante.

hating is like drink or drugs and she had used it so long that she did not dare risk cutting off the supply, destroying the source, the very poppy's root and seed?

Zaman zaman insan düÅŸünüyor. Bu dünyadaki üzüntüleri, tasalar?; ÅŸimÅŸek gibi herhangi bir yerden vurabileceklerini. San?r?m kiÅŸinin s???na?? ancak güçlü bir Tanr? inanc? olabilir, yaln?z kimi zaman Cora bunda fazla ileri gidiyor, hani baÅŸkalar?n? öte yana y???p da kendi herkesten daha yak?na sokulmak ister gibi.

Hasta me acuerdo de cómo, cuando yo era joven, creía que la muerte era un fenómeno del cuerpo; sin embargo, ahora sé que no es más que una función de la mente: una función de las mentes de quienes sufren la pérdida. Los nihilistas dicen que la muerte es el final; los funcionalistas, que el comienzo; pero en realidad no es más que un simple inquilino o familia que deja su habitación o su ciudad.

Soy un elegido de Dios, pues Él castiga a aquel a quien Él ama. Pero que me aspen si es que Él no ha escogido, por lo que se ve, una manera harto extraña de demostrar su amor.

Our brother Darl in a cage in Jackson where, his grimed hands lying light in the quiet interstices, looking out he foams.

Gal b?tent t? akimirk?, kai mes suprantame, sutinkame su tuo, kad egzistuoja blogio logika, mes ir numirštame.

We live in Rome, he says, turning his face to the room again, -Caligula's Rome, with a new circus of vulgar bestialized suffering in the newspapers every morning. The masses, the fetid masses, he says, bringing all his weight to his feet.-How can they even suspect a self who can do more, when they live under absolutely no obligation. There are so few beautiful things in the world...

Suffer barbaric childhood to give and receive remorselessly; civilized age learns to protect what it has, to neither give nor accept freely, to trust it's own mistrust above faith, and intriguing others above the innocent. Intrigue, after all, is rational, something the mind can sink it's teeth into, and defeat it with the good digestion of reason, a hopeless prospect for the toothless heart, and God only knows what innocence will do next.

No you won't understand will you! that your own selfish suffering's easier than facing suffering you've caused

Case fell into the prison of his own flesh.

He feels it as a single indescribable shape, something brailled out for him against a ground or backdrop of he knows not what, and it hurts him, in the poet's phrase, like the world hurts God.