Quotes About Suffering

Hezbollah's contempt for human suffering is total, as it showed once again this morning when its rockets murdered two Israeli Arab children in Nazareth.

Sooner or later we all lose our loved ones. We all have to suffer, every last one of us.

To this day, she's still sad. Because there's not some finite amount of pain inside us. Our bodies and minds just keep manufacturing more of it. I'm just saying that I took the pain that was inside of her at that moment and made it my own. And it didn't hurt me at all.

Coincidence only carries so far, and then you just have to figure that the universe wants to fuck you up as much as possible

It will finish badly when she dries out, I suppose, and probably end with madness, but almost everything does.

Even as the armies of slaves were underfed and dying from hunger, some were forced to wear bizarre tin-plate masks, in hundred-degree heat, to keep them from gaining the slightest nourishment from chewing the cane. The

No real reason for the lack of sleep, it's a disadvantage of rotating shifts that every so often your body clock just throws up it's hands in despair and goes to sulk behind the sofa – leaving you suffering insomnia and/or intense fatigue.

I close my eyes, and this image floats beside me. A sweaty toothed mad man with a stare that pounds my brain. His hands reach out and choke me, and all the time he's mumbling. "Truth, truth." Like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold. You push it, stretch it, but it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying, to the moment we leave dying, it'll just cover your face, as you wail and cry and scream.

Every time you hear a car alarm, Ruby said, another New Yorker has gone to hell.

The universe has always conspired to fuck me up.

The world is a hellish place, and bad writing is destroying the quality of our suffering.

Arithmetic arithmetock Turn the hands back on the clock How does the ocean rock the boat? How did the razor find my throat? The only strings that hold me here Are tangled up around the pier.

hell is boiling over. And heaven is full. We're chained to the world. And we all gotta pull. And we're all gonna be ...just dirt in the ground".

Misery's the river of the world. Everybody row!

The world is a hellish place, and bad writing is destroying the quality of our suffering. It cheapens and degrades the human experience, when it should inspire and elevate.

My mind is a sacred cow / bleeding in the ellipsis.

Where, exactly, was this hell?

The Trickster, of course," Gabriel finally answered himself, "Weesageechak for sure. The clown who bridges humanity and God - a God who laughs, a God who's here, not for guilt, not for suffering, but for a good time. Except this time, the Trickster representing God as a woman, a goddess in fur. Like in this picture. I've always thought that, ever since we were little kids. I mean, if Native languages have no gender, then why should we? And why, for that matter, should God?

and their families are hungry. They don't have guns. Wouldn't hurt

We look almost happy out in the sun, while we bleed to death from wounds we know nothing about.

Andersonville lay on American soil and saw the death of 13,000 Americans in American custody.

Seven severely depressed prisoners were listed as having died of "nostalgia.

on the cross, just moments before his death, Jesus cries out in anguish and dereliction, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" That is the pivot point of all cosmic history, for in that moment God became fully human. Only when God felt abandoned, alone in the universe, did God gain total empathy with the human condition.

But the hope within our faith is that we can draw meaning out of what is meaningless, through the theopraxis of learning to love one another better–and that, in the global scheme of things, means living for the good of everyone, whether they be Foxconn workers or Syrian asylum seekers–or friends who are suffering.