Quotes About Suffering

It is proper to ask for sorrow with Christ in sorrow, anguish with Christ in anguish, tears and deep grief because of the great affliction Christ endures for me.

I have shed many tears of pain and indignation.

Why do we write novels or make television about real things? It's the human condition and human suffering.

Shall I tell you what the real evil is? To cringe to the things that are called evils, to surrender to them our freedom, in defiance of which we ought to face any suffering.

It's a rare and precious thing to be close to suffering because our society - in many ways - tells us that suffering is wrong. If it's our own suffering, we try to hide it or isolate ourselves. If others are suffering, we're taught to put them away somewhere so we don't have to see it.

We spend millions of dollars to remove pain from our lives. It's why so many people get hooked on painkillers. The body becomes addicted to painlessness. That tells you a lot.

Physical pain is temporary.

pain reaches a certain point and does not get worse but remains in all its intensity and you can survive it.

The tree cannot walk, all its going must be violence. They listen to the saw cut, the roots scream. And in eating even a stalk of celery there will be pathetic screaming.

He had beaten her savagely after Gaunt's first visit, and the bruises had not yet faded. Her cheek was purplish in colour, and her  left eye was still slightly swollen. She did not mind, however. 'You know I only do it because I love you, don't you baby?' he had said afterwards. 'I just can't control myself; I love you so bad.

immediately noticed the "splendid library, of course, with soft carpet, couches etc, such as became a sympathiser with the suffering classes." Her withering conclusion was "How can we sufficiently pity the needy unless we know fully the blessings of the plenty?" This autumn she

I had concluded that I no longer shared her faith in a God who controlled the universe like a puppet master pulling and tugging strings and making us all dance. Our lives, I believed, were more like billiard balls on a pool table, ricocheting randomly with the impact of the cue ball. To believe otherwise was to believe that a God to whom my mother had devoted her life had responded by striking down her husband and causing her so much pain. I couldn't accept that.

Besides, I no longer believed in God's will. I was not willing to accept that it was God's will for a good man like my father, a devoted man, to spend his final days in some care facility.

Her muscles cramped and eventually seized. When

than that one innocent suffer. —SIR WILLIAM BLACKSTONE

If you want to see what Christ looks like, look at those who participate in him in the most dramatic way," he says. "It's the Cross, participation in the Cross. It's conforming to Christ, it's Christ appearing vividly in our midst.

But as the last week of his life unfolded, Jesus did not contrive to confront these powers in the conventional manner. Rather he allowed them to spend themselves on him; he permitted the darkness of the world to envelop him. In the densely textured passion narratives of the Gospels we see all forms of human dysfunction on display. Jesus was met by betrayal, denial,

as he made Job, and though Job has probably never in his life even considered Behemoth and Leviathan, they are as ingredient in the complex weave of God's providence as is Job. The overall point of God's speech seems to be this: the suffering of any one person must be seen within the context of the infinitely subtle working out of God's purposes throughout the whole of space and time.

They saw how their Master denied himself many of the comforts and pleasures of the world and became a servant among them. They saw how the things they cherished—physical satisfaction, popular acclaim, prestige—he refused; while the things which they sought to escape—poverty, humiliation, sorrow, and even death—he accepted willingly for their sake.

Suddenly the black torturer laid down the pipes and rose, towering over the writhing white figure.

In this world men struggle and suffer vainly, finding pleasure only in the bright madness of battle

It is good that war is so horrible, or we might grow to like it.

You or I might think that at least one would show courage and put up a fight. But neither you nor I have suffered as they, and even we have born witness in silence to lesser ills under less dire threat. Yet, in the face of evil, to sit silent is an even greater evil. Complacency is ever the enabler of darkest deeds;

I think that anyone who reaches the age of three or four has more than likely already had all the misery he or she needs.