Quotes About Suffering

He only can create the greatest imaginable beauty who has endured all imaginable pangs, for only when we have seen and foreseen what we dread shall we be rewarded by that dazzling unforeseen wing-footed wanderer.

God has pity on kindergarten children.He has less pity on school children.And on grownups he has no pity at all,he leaves them alone,and sometimes they must crawl on all foursin the burning sandto reach the first-aid stationcovered with blood.

Il diametro della bomba era di trenta centimetri e il diametro del suo raggio d'azione era di circa sette metri, con quattro morti e undici feriti... E non parliamo nemmeno del pianto degli orfani che si leva fino al trono di Dio e ben oltre, creando un creando un cerchio senza fine e senza Dio.

Haven't written here in several days, I don't know how many: All the days seem like one. All the days have one color—yellow, like parched, fiery sand. And there isn't a shred of shade, nor a drop of water, and no end of the yellow sand.

True poverty does not come from God.

Truth never dies, but lives a wretched life.

Did God who gave us flowers and trees, Also provide the allergies?

Under the regime of Nazi Germany, these perfectly "ordinary" people were turned into something extraordinarily inhuman.

We are destined to live together, on the same soil in the same land. We, the soldiers who have returned from battle stained with blood, we who have seen our relatives and friends killed before our eyes, we who have attended their funerals and cannot look into the eyes of their parents, we who have come from a land where parents bury their children, we who have fought against you, the Palestinians. We say to you today in a loud and clear voice: Enough of blood and tears. Enough.

We sail onto a war which has no casualties, no wounded, no blood nor suffering. It is the only war which is a pleasure to participate in — the war for peace.

Much of what one does--to avoid suffering, to seek happiness, to stay healthy--is to keep a safe space for one's private language.

The unspeakable is a wound that stays open always, always, and forever.

The weak-minded choose to hate," she said. "It's the least painful thing to do, isn't it?

Wishing only wounds the heart.

A real person, open-ended, can only be approached as a hypothesis. A character in fiction is demanded to be accountable. Some characters are more willing to offer a context. The young women in Jane Austen's novels, for instance, seek happiness and suffer when happiness is made unavailable, by situation, chance, or folly.

A gilmpse into the depth of other people's misfortunes makes us cling to the hope that the suffering is measurable. There are more sorrowful sorrows, more despondent despondencies. When we recognize another's suffering, we cannot avoid confronting our own, from which we escape to the thought of measurability. Well, at least, we emphasize. Our capacity to console extends only to what we can do to console ourselves.

They were all sufferers in their despicable pain, every one of them, and what right did he have to laugh at the woman whose husband was pouring his heart out to him, a man in sincere confession to a fellowman?

A glimpse into the depth of other people's misfortunes makes us cling to the hope that suffering is measurable. There are more sorrowful sorrows, more despondent despondencies. When we recognize another's suffering, we cannot avoid confronting our own, from which we escape to the thought of measurability. Well, at least, we emphasize. Our capacity to console extends only to what we can do to console ourselves.

It is difficult for anyone to watch someone close suffer. The grief comes from not understanding the pain, and from knowing that suffering, even when it ends, will live on as memory. A child does not, and should not, understand her parents' memories, yet this incomprehension does not offer exemption. The child in every one of us carries the burden of memory's melodrama, not only our own, but those before our time.

Is the wish to escape suffering selfish? It is considered so with suicide. But even less extreme escapes leave wounds in others' lives. The Death of the Heart is not only a study of selfishness, but also a study of the struggle to escape suffering. To whom the damage is done no one wants to ask. This is the question that unsettles me more: Is suffering selfish?

Bad things happen—wars, plagues, parents abandoning their children, the heartless preying on those with hearts—and no one, not a human or a god, will intervene.

When you go to war, both sides lose totally.

Proverbs is in many respects a work on ethics, presenting arguments concerning the manner in which moral precepts relate to life and the good; Job investigates the reasons good individuals (and, by implication, good nations) should suffer catastrophe; Esther seeks an account of how God's will works in political circumstances in which one sees nothing but the decisions and deeds of human actors; and so forth.

When I say it doesn't hurt me, that means I can bear it.