Quotes About Suffering

Og naar hun kommer, forstaar mit Hjerte alt, og det slaar ikke længer, det klemter.

I had remarked so plainly that, whenever I had been hungry for any length of time, it was just as if my brains ran quite gently out of my head and left me with a vacuum--my head grew light and far off, I no longer felt its weight on my shoulders, and I had a consciousness that my eyes stared far too widely open when I looked at anything.

Hun var ikke fordærvet og han elsket hende Herrens meget; men hvad hjalp det? Gå hele livet og vite alt!

I was drunk with starvation; my hunger had made me tipsy.

Men om hun nu pludselig sang der oppe i stuen igjen, sang ned til disse blomsterne her? Javel - når hun slog sin lidenskap ut som en vifte og var god og gal. Stakkars hende! Men stakkars allesammen!

Human beings push against each other and trample on each other; some sink exhausted to the ground and serve as a bridge for others, some perish—they are the ones least fitted for coping with the push, and they perish. That can't be helped. But the others flourish and blossom. Such is life's immortality. All this, mind you, they knew at the pump.

I had noticed very clearly that every time I went hungry a little too long it was as though my brains simply ran quietly out of my head and left me empty. My head became light and floating. I could no longer feel its weight on my shoulders, and I had the sense that my eyes were remaining far too open when I looked at anything.

Hvorfor skal vi bli noget? Det blir alle de andre og er allikevel ikke lykkeligere. de har hat strævet med å komme op, men de må se si om efter lønnen. Deres ro er borte, deres nerver tyndslitte, nogen drikker for å greie sig og blir bare værre, de skal til hver tid på gå høie hæler, jeg som bor i en sjå ynker dem.

Cuando uno presta atención a las reacciones del público que visita un parque zoológico, advierte el despilfarro de una piedad sentimental, en la conmiseración que despiertan animales que se encuentran perfectamente, mientras que casi nadie se da cuenta del verdadero sufrimiento, que también existe en la mayor parte de los jardines zoológicos.

Wroth! Don't do this!" "Five years of hell," he sneered, palming her ass roughly. "You deserve to be fucked till you can't walk.

Similar situation ? Like the one where you put me in fear for my life, then let go of that damned vine to heartlessly build my fear ? MacRieve, I hope I enthralled you. Then you can rot wanting me to be yours.

Once I'm free, we're going to find out exactly how much pain you can endure while remaining conscious. I won't stop until you tell me where my ring is. He leaned in to say at his ear, I'll be sure to make you feel your loss .

Nix was so beautiful yet so damaged. - Uilleam MacRieve ~

Those bastards had driven me into a trap; Cyclops  ate  the trap.

A quanto pareva, Emma era nata per essere rapita da un lykae impazzito. Il suo destino faceva schifo.

Attachment is the root cause of suffering, dear child. This is well known to you. Fix yourself in that knowledge now and take heart.

Animals will be slaughtered mercilessly. Children, women and the elderly will be neglected and abused.

One never really knew just how taxing pain was till one was free of it and could feel the difference.

If you think beauty insipid, you haven't experienced it. Nor is it always devoid of suffering. That's something religious artists have always understood, Michelangelo, Chagall, and Van Gogh, Beethoven, C.S. Lewis, and all the writer's for whom beauty is a gift and a calling.

Knowing the Lord was in their midst took the edge off the agony. Told You Twice

The human capacity for suffering was like that for joy. It could only have the greatest impact in small doses. After that, mind and body could no longer take it in.

For minutes on end he could not tell whether he was really hearing howls of pain, or whether it was simply that his years of long, exhausting work had rendered him incapable of distinguishing between the general noise and ancient prehistoric screams that were somehow preserved in time ('the evidence of suffering does not disappear without a trace,' he hopefully remarked) and now were being raised by the rain, like dust.

The bitterest kind of heartache—the ache that burns and gnaws and cannot wash itself away in ready tears.

Evil will never find peace. It may triumph, but it will never find peace.