Quotes About Suffering

My bones are brittle, my heart weak and erratic, my esophagus and stomach riddled with ulcers, my reproductive system shot, my immune system useless... I'm not going to have a happy ending.

You begin to forget what it means to live. You forget things. You forget that you used to feel all right. You forget what it means to feel all right because you feel like shit all of the time, and you can´t remember what it was like before.

In truth, you like the pain. You like it because you believe you deserve it.

The idea began to sink in, more than it ever had, that I might be crazy, in the traditional sense of the word. That I might be, forever and ever amen, a Crazy Person. That's what we'd suspected all along, what I'd been working so hard to disprove, what might be true. I preferred, by far, being dead.

And so i went through the looking glass, stepped into the nether world, where up is down and food is greed, where convex mirrors cover the walls where death is honour and flesh is weak. It is ever so easy to go. Harder to find your way back.

Here's the hell of it: madness doesn't announce itself. There isn't time to prepare for its coming. It shows up without calling and sits in your kitchen ashing in your plant. You ask how long it plans to stay; it shrugs its shoulders, gets up, and starts digging through the fridge.

And so I went through the looking glass, stepped into the netherworld, where up is down and food is greed, where convex mirrors cover the walls, where death is honor and flesh is weak. It is ever so easy to go. Harder to find your way back.

They might try to remind me That Such Tragedy surrounds me But this suffering created art I never found it scary... I was all undercover

You flesh bodies are so obsessed with goodness, yet no other form of life on earth is capable of such cruelty. You need only convince yourselves your transgressions serve some 'purpose.' Even if it is only greed, or lust, or the raw desire for power that drives you. You will spill the blood of your kinsmen, lay waste to the earth itself, wreak havoc, and cause unspeakable suffering---any and all sins are justified, as long as they are a means to your precous, righteous 'purpose'.

Call it professional interest. You see, Jessamine, love is a kind of poison; one of my favorite kinds, in fact. It infects the blood; it takes over the mind; it seizes dominion over the body. It amuses me to think of him pining for you. Aching for what he cannot have. The loneliness in his soul is festering like a wound. There is nothing I could do for him that is worse that what you have already done, my lovely. And I assure you, in his case there will be no cure.

Only a fool takes offense at the truth, Jessamine. They are awful, of that there is no question. But they are also very charming. Purveyors of unspeakable suffering and indescribable delights. Performers of murders and miracles! You might grow to like them, if you got to know them as I do. But why has your beloved Crabgrass ventured into this garden of horrors, I wonder?

Thank you for your bounty, Oleander, Prince of Poisons, I think. Thank you for all that Mr. Pratt has already received, and all that my father is receiving still, as the poison twists like bramble in his gut, burns within his brain, presses like a boulder upon his heart.

The misfortune! The misery! The . . . whatever is worse than misery!

You are truly mature if you can listen lightly, as if to an echo, to criticism or to vile blasphemy, no matter how unbearable, without reacting. As long as you are not attached to fame, glory, reputation, or social status, there is no need to suffer. A person without attachments has neither lifelong enemies to overthrow nor any need to flatter people in power.

If you have unconditionally taken in all the words that flood this world, you have acquired an enormous burden. You have lost your freedom; you are in pain;

The pain of being alone is completely out of this world, isn't it? I don't know why, but I understand your feelings so much, it actually hurts.

Wenn du mich einmal nicht mehr magst, Und geht mein Herz in Scherben - Daß du nicht fragst, noch um mich klagst! Ich kann so leise sterben.

So schlepp ich weiter an der schweren Kette Und presse Brot und Wasser aus dem Stein. Kehr ich einst wieder, werden meine Hände Zu rauh für alle blauen Träume sein.

Altes Rezept Nimm das Dasein als Bewährungsfrist ohne Klagen, ohne Fragen. Schweigend steig hinauf die dunklen Treppen, Weil es immerhin noch leichter ist, sein Kreuz zu tragen, als es zu schleppen.

Reality is the name we give to our disappointments.

If suffering brought wisdom, the dentist

The thought is that Hitler is an unfortunate node in the way the world is unfolding. He did not choose to be the evil person he is. He deserves compassion, not anger. And he must die for reasons of compassion: compassion for him and all those who might suffer his awfulness.

Hay una gran diferencia entre la alegría y el dolor; si me piden que elija, buscaré la primera y evitaré la segunda. La primera está de acuerdo con la naturaleza, la segunda es contraria a ella.

Es mejor sufrir el dolor de una manera honorable que buscar la alegría de una forma vergonzosa.