Quotes About Suffering

Nothing nice happens to murdered women.

Let me tell you, having cancer sucks, but being broke and having cancer is the shittiest fate that can land on a human being.

They were the understanding eyes of kindly folk who burned witches alive to save their souls.

My back feels like someone beat me with a pillowcase full of tuna-fish cans.

How long has it been since I've seen sunlight? Down in the asshole of creation, it was a dim, perpetual crimson-and-magenta twilight.

So far, being dead is about as much fun as a barbed-wire G-string. Yes, there is such a thing. They invented it in Hell, which is where I am. I already said I was dead. Where else would I be? Try to keep up.

What I do know is that a famous dead guy once said, "Life is a bucket of shit with a barbed-wire handle.

Reality is a two-ton weight strapped to your balls. And they just keep getting heavier.

Because someone owes me for it. Every second I was there. Every beating. Every bad habit and every shitty dream.

Do you even know what death is, Tom?" I say. "It's dumb, and it's loud, and it smells bad; you're in Hell and you want to die to get away from it all, but you're already dead and there's nowhere to go. And what's worse is you know you're there because you deserve it, because you're such a fucking waste of skin and gristle. So no, I don't want to die. It's no fun and there's too many people like you there.

That's not terribly comforting, but I suppose it will have to do." "That pretty much sums up Hell.

If you shot time in the gut, this is where it would crawl off to die.

I down whatever's in the glass, though, because at this point I'd drink paint thinner out of a hobo's galoshes.

And if I do live, I don't know if my body is ever going to be right again. I mean, even if I figure out what Ludovico's Ellicit is and get cured, I might look like Freddy Krueger's foreskin forever.

When you're drowning in Hell, even a cement life jacket can look good.

So far, being dead is about as much fun as a barbed-wire G-string. Yes

She hands me back the bottle. The stuff we're drinking is vile. Greasy and fishy, but even flounder-flavored turpentine will taste good when it's the only drink in town.

The universe is a meat grinder and we're just pork in designer shoes, keeping busy so we can pretend we're not all headed for the sausage factory.

Dead, lost, and with only half a pack of smokes. The dictionary definition of Hell." "Amen

Scholarship that is indifferent to human suffering is immoral.

To those humans in whom I have faith; I wish suffering, being forsaken, sickness, maltreatment, humiliation. I wish that they should not remain unfamiliar with profound self-contempt, the torture of self-mistrust, and the misery of the vanquished. I have no pity for them because I wish them the only thing that can prove today whether one is worth anything or not—that one endures' . . . Remember, the passion for destruction is also a creative passion.

Why is it, I wonder, that people suffer, when there is so little need, when an effort of will and some hard work would bring them from their misery into peace and contentment.

Hard it is to suffer through stupid people. They make you feel sorry for them, and if your sorrow is as great as your hurt, you will allow them to go free of punishment, for their eyes are the eyes of dogs that have done wrong and know it, and are afraid.

The families of the missing are doubly burdened: first by the pain of their ordeal, and then by our expectations of them, expectations of a standard of behavior higher than we require of ourselves. As humans, we seek naturally to help fellow creatures in distress. But most of us, whether we are conscious of it or not, expect something back—the flattery of helplessness and of need.