Quotes About Suffering

I am to wait, though waiting so be hell. Sonnet 58.13

Lastima del amor! A pesar de la venda que lleva, ve, aun sin ojos, la manera de lograr su proposito

What cannot be preserved when fortune takes, Patience her injury a mockery makes.

Sofremos demasiado pelo pouco que nos falta e alegramo-nos pouco pelo muito que temos...

His injury the gaoler to his pity.

If then true lovers have been ever cross'd, It stands as an edict in destiny: Then let us teach our trial patience, Because it is a customary cross, As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs, Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers.

Rouse him:—make after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, Yet throw such changes of vexation

Like flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for sport.

think our country sinks beneath the yoke. It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash Is added to her wounds. I

O, that the gods Would set me free from this unhallow'd place, Though they did change me to the meanest bird That flies i' the purer air!

The malignancy of my fate might perhaps distemper yours. Therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It

This was the most unkindest cut of all;

And ye shall be hated of all men for my name's sake: but he that endureth to the end shall be saved.

I had now reached that phase of the disorder where all sense of hope had vanished, along with the idea of a futurity; my brain, in thrall to its outlaw hormones, had become less an organ of thought than an instrument registering, minute by minute, varying degrees of its own suffering.

Loss in all of its manifestations is the touchstone of depression—in the progress of the disease and, most likely, in its origin.

depression, when it finally came to me, was in fact no stranger, not even a visitor totally unannounced; it had been tapping at my door for decades.

In depression this faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent. The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come—not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute.

I don't see any point in trying to equate one evil with another, or to assign some stupid scale of values. They're both awful! Would

On Major Depression, quoted by the great William Styron of Sophie's Choice & Darkness Visible: From Darkness Visible, William Styron It is a positive and active anguish, a sort of psychical neuralgia, wholly unknown to normal life.

The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come -- not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute. If there is mild relief, one knows that it is only temporary; more pain will follow.

The query: "At Auschwitz, tell me, where was God?" And the answer: "Where was man?

one of the most unendurable aspects of such an interlude was the inability to sleep (...) the disruption of normal sleep patterns is a notoriously devastating feature of depression (...). It had become clear that I would never be granted even a few minutes' relief from my full-time exhaustion.

In my career as a writer I have always been attracted to morbid themes—suicide, rape, murder, military life, marriage, slavery.

la negra noche del alma humana cuando millones de inocentes sufrían y morían bajo la dominación nazi.