Quotes About Suffering

I sostenitori dell'eutanasia non sanno cosa sia la dignità umana e, nella migliore delle ipotesi, la confondono con la compassione.

Mira desde los cielos y ve cómo nos hemos convertido en el desprecio y la burla de las naciones; somos contados como ganado y llevados al matadero para ser degollados y destruidos o para ser golpeados y acusados. Sin embargo, a pesar de todo esto, no hemos olvidado Tu nombre; te lo imploramos: no nos olvides…»

Tampoco era raro que hallasen algún niño de pecho oculto entre la ropa, y entonces lo guardaban para la «ducha siguiente».

Little is known about Boyle's mother, other than that she was married at seventeen and proceeded to bear fifteen children in the next twenty-three years, then dropped dead of consumption, which by then must have come as a relief.

Doing time creates a demented darkness of my own imagination.... Doing time does this thing to you. But, of course, you don't do time. You do without it. Or rather, time does you. Time is a cannibal that devours the flesh of your years day by day, bite by bite.

It seems it's always the innocent who pay the highest price for injustice. It's seemed that way all my life.

Yes, even we prisoners are human. I suppose every man proclaims himself innocent, whether innocent or not. But, I tell you, even the guilty are human. And, as for the innocent who are branded as guilty, theirs is a special agony beyond all comprehension.

Do you want to hear Jesus speak? Go to where the wounds are. Find wounded people, hurting people, suffering people, and you will find Jesus.

Je tiefer das Gefühl, desto größer der Schmerz.

But the rope is still more horrible when it forms the noose around the necks of weak and ignorant people.

Death was something inevitable and even unimportant, of which it was not worth while to think; but for a man in prison, before his execution, to be left without tobacco—that was altogether unbearable.

El amor ansía ser correspondido; buscan las lágrimas lágrimas que les respondan. Y cuando el alma de un gran pueblo sufre, su vida entera acusa el dolor; tiembla toda alma viva y los de corazón puro van al sacrificio

Nobody took care of Lazarus, he no longer had any relatives or friends, and the great desert, which embraced the holy city, approached the very threshold of his dwelling place. And she came into his house, and she sprawled across his bed, like a wife, and she extinguished the fires.

Alas, woman is faithful as long as she loves, but you demand that she be faithful without love and give herself without enjoyment. Who is cruel then, woman or man?

I love her passionately with a morbid intensity; madly as one can only love a woman who never responds to our love with anything but an eternally uniform, eternally calm, stony smile.

The moral of the tale is this: whoever allows himself to be whipped, deserves to be whipped.

Love knows no virtue, no profit; it loves and forgives and suffers everything, because it must. It is not our judgment that leads us; it is neither the advantages nor the faults which we discover, that make us abandon ourselves, or that repel us. It is a sweet, soft, enigmatic power that drives us on. We cease to think, to feel, to will; we let ourselves be carried away by it, and ask not whither?

I imagine that the goddess of Love has come down from Olympus to visit a mortal. So as not to die of cold in this modern world of ours, she wraps her sublime body in great heavy furs and warms her feet on the prostrate body of her lover. I imagine the favorite of this beautiful despot, who is whipped when his mistress grows tired of kissing him, and whose love only grows more intense the more he is trampled underfoot. I shall call the picture Venus in Furs

we should keep in mind the difference between sin and tragedy.

You want to know what pain is? Try running out of Advil when you've got a Category Five period. I've had cramps that would make grown men beg for a bullet between the eyes. - Jennifer, Beauty Queens

I can see his pain, see it in the way he runs his fingers through his hair, over and over, and I understand what it costs him to hide it all.

My misery is reaching epidemic proportions.

My cholera's acting up again.

We are made by what we are asked to bear, Ling Chan," he'd said.