Quotes About Suffering

At this moment his dearest wish would have been just a moment's grace to immerse his face in a sinkfull of warm water. And maybe to have somebody hold him under till he drowned.

until sunlight came bleeding up over the horizon, like more acid blood oozing out of his sick ruptured heart, which felt - not that anybody cared - like a rotten drum of biohazardous waste at the very bottom of a landfill, leaching poison into the groundwater, enough poison to kill an entire suburb full of innocent and unsuspecting children.

he was still in the real world, where bad, bitter things happened for no reason, and people paid for things that weren't their fault.

Sometimes I think I am fate's sword. She wields me cruelly.

She still had her bad days, no question, when the black dog of depression sniffed her out and settled its crushing weight on her chest and breathed its pungent dog breath in her face.

Nothing a recovering addict likes more than a tale of how bad it had been in the old days, and how low a fellow addict had sunk.

Loyal prophets of an indifferent god" (on the topic of alcoholics, p.222)

No, it was that Fillory was cruel, as cruel in its way as the real world was. There was no difference, though we all pretended there was. There was nothing fair about Fillory, just as there was nothing fair about people's fathers going to war, and their mothers going mad, and the way we among all animals were cursed with a longing for somewhere better, somewhere that never existed and never would. Fillory was no better than our world. It was just prettier.

Utangaç insanlar?n ?zd?rab?, haklar?nda olu?an dü?ünceyi bilmemekten kaynaklan?r; bu dü?ünce -ne olursa olsun- aç?kça ifade edilir edilmez ?zd?rap sona erer.

Suffering "buys" something, and this something possesses a certain value for all of us, for common consciousness; by suffering we buy the right to judge.

More striking still, a broken man is generally deprived of everything except the ability to acknowledge and feel his position.

Pushkin could cry hot tears, and he who can weep can hope. "I want to live, so that I may think and suffer," he says; and it seems as if the word "to suffer," which is so beautiful in the poem, just fell in accidentally, because there was no better rhyme in Russian for "to die.

Sempre a mesma coisa. Ora uma gota de esperança que cintila, depois um mar de desespero que se desencadeia, e sempre a dor, sempre a dor, sempre o desespero, sempre a mesma coisa.

I ask only one thing: I ask the right to hope and suffer as I do now; but if even that is impossible, command me to disappear and I will do it. -Vronsky

A morbid propensity that causes great suffering in domestic life is often curiously infectious to the very person for whom it creates most suffering.

Maybe the greatness we heard in [Richard Manuel]'s voice, that catch in it, came from all that pain. To this day, we don't really know.

Southern trees bear a strange fruit, (Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,) Black body swinging in the southern breeze, Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Length of days with an evil heart is only length of misery.

Try to exclude the possibility of suffering which the order of nature and the existence of free-wills involve, and you find that you have excluded life itself.

All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell.

There is wishful thinking in Hell as well as on Earth.

[Mortals] say of some temporal suffering, "No future bliss can make up for it," not knowing Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory.

Disease is war with the laws of our being, and all war, as a great general has said, is hell.

The light of human consciousness is, so far, the ultimate wonder of life, and the main justification for all the suffering and misery that have accompanied human development. In the tending of that fire, in the building of that world, in the intensification of that light, in the widening of man's open-eyed and sympathetic fellowship with all created being, lies the meaning of human history.