Quotes About Suffering

I would cross seas and suffer sunstroke and give away all I have, but not for a man, because they want to be the destroyer and never be destroyed. That is why they are unfit for romantic love. There are exceptions and I hope they are happy.

Does the body hate itself so much that it seeks release at any cost?

Could so many straightforward ordinary lives suddenly become men to kill and women to rape?

In the cell was a rack, a winch, a furnace, a set of branding irons, a pot for melting wax, nails of different lengths. A thumbscrew, a pair of flesh-tongs, heavy tweezers, a set of surgical instruments, a series of small metal trays, ropes, wire, preparations of quicklime, a hood and a blindfold.

People do go back, but they don't survive, because two realities are claiming them at the same time. Such things are too much. You can salt your heart, or kill your heart, or you choose between the two realities. There is so much pain here.

There is peace in dungeons, but is that enough to make dungeons desirable?

When one has suffered or fears suffering, one pities those who suffer; but when one is suffering, one pities only oneself.

The ever-recurring law of necessity soon teaches a man to do what he does not like, so as to avert evils which he would dislike still more... this foresight, well or ill used, is the source of all the wisdom or the wretchedness of mankind.

The sword wears out its sheath, as it is sometimes said. That is my story. My passions have made me live, and my passions have killed me. What passions, it may be asked. Trifles, the most childish things in the world. Yet they affected me as much as if the possessions of Helen, or the throne of the Universe, had been at stake.

Ä°nsanlar? daha iyi tan?mak, beni içine düÅŸürdükleri ac?lar? daha iyi duymaya yarad?; üstelik kurduklar? tuzaklar? birer birer gördüÄŸüm halde, düÅŸmeme engel olamad?.

I found that stealing and being beaten went together, and in some way made up a single condition, and that by fulfilling the part of that condition that depended on me, I could leave the care of the other part to my master. From this idea, I set out to steal more calmly than before. I said to myself, What will come of it in the end? I will be beaten. So be it: that's what I am made for

La lectura de las desgracias imaginarias de Cleveland, ardorosamente hecha y frecuentemente interrumpida, creo que me hizo más daño que las propias. Había

I would rather be exposed to all their torments than be obliged to think about them in order to protect myself from their attacks.

We pity in others only the those evils which we ourselves have experienced.

Don't worry, God understands,' Mom said. 'He knows that your father is a cross we must bear.

Some love too little, some too long, Some sell, and others buy; Some do the deed with many tears, And some without a sigh: For each man kills the thing he loves, Yet each man does not die.

Quelle drôle d'idée. Croire en Dieu. On ne pouvait pas croire en Dieu quand on jouait à la cesta punta. Ni quand on traitait toute l'année avec la souffrance et la maladie, ou qu'à la maison le suicide était un sport national, et qu'en guise de complies, on allait se recueillir régulièrement devant un petit ex-voto formolé de Joseph Staline.

Much more likely you'll hurt me. Still what does it matter? If I've got to suffer, it may as well be at your hands, your pretty hands.

You must be like me; you must suffer in rhythm.

L'enfer, c'est les autres.

As for me, I am mean: that means that I need the suffering of others to exist. A flame. A flame in their hearts. When I am all alone, I am extinguished.

Anything, anything would be better than this agony of mind, this creeping pain that gnaws and fumbles and caresses one and never hurts quite enough.

I dreamed vaguely of killing myself to wipe out at least one of these superfluous lives. But even my death would have been In the way . In the way, my corpse, my blood on these stones, between these plants, at the back of this smiling garden. And the decomposed flesh would have been In the way in the earth which would receive my bones, at last, cleaned, stripped, peeled, proper and clean as teeth, it would have been In the way : I was In the way for eternity.

She suffers as a miser. She must be miserly with her pleasures, as well. I wonder if sometimes she doesn't wish she were free of this monotonous sorrow, of these mutterings which start as soon as she stops singing, if she doesn't wish to suffer once and for all, to drown herself in despair. In any case, it would be impossible for her: she is bound.