Quotes About Suffering

Pain and perfection. It was the only path to redemption he knew.

Some people say there is relief in the sharing of cares and pains. To me there was no catharsis, only an unearthing of rotting corpses of memories, a baring of still suppurating wounds.

The puppet dances, He turns flips and he jigs. His painted red smile looks happy but he is screaming, for he performs on red-hot coals. His wooden feet begin to smoke. A man comes in with a shining axe. He swings it. I think he will cut off the puppet's burning feet, but instead the axe cuts all his strings. But the man with the axe falls just as swiftly as the puppet leaps away, free.

I don't think they're coming. Why must I stand here in the wind and rain?' 'Because it pleases me', Kennit snapped at him. Wintrow thought to intervene. 'You can have my cloak, if you like'. he offered. The Satrap scowled. 'It's dripping wet. What good would that do me?' 'You could be wetter', Kennit snarled.

Of all the cruel jests fate had recently played on me, I decided that awakening was the cruelest.

There is nothing dishonorable about abandoning pain. Sometimes peace is most quickly found when a man simply stops avoiding it.

Once a man has been broken by pain, he remains forever a victim. He cannot ever forget that place he has visited, the moment when he decided that he would surrender everything rather than endure more pain.

There is, in all honesty, no way to kill someone mercifully. There are those who count it no crime to drown an imperfect newborn in warm water, as if the infant will not struggle desperately to draw air into its lungs. Did it not try to breathe, it would not drown. But they do not hear the screams nor feel the darkening of the mind that the child endures, so they have been merciful. To themselves. This is true of most "mercy killings.

My head cleared, and suddenly I had heart to fight again, to ignore pain and damage, to fight! I swear I saw myself, face purpled from strangling, the rich blood streaming and soaking and the smell so maddening.

The ones who chose to live free of inconvenience by tolerating the agony and degradation of others?

seen my birth. Oh, not in your lifetime, nor even mine. But shall we be happy, to say that we live in the dusk rather than in the full night? Shall we rejoice that we shall only suffer, while your offspring will be the ones to know the torments of the damned? Shall this be why we do not act?

But shall we be happy, to say that we live in the dusk rather than in the full night? Shall we rejoice that we shall only suffer, while your offspring will be the ones to know the torments of the damned? Shall this be why we do not act?

Pain is the coin they use now in all their transactions. Nothing else teaches them, nothing else will satisfy them.

Death is always less painful and easier than life! You speak true. And yet we do not, day to day, choose death. Because ultimately, death is not the opposite of life, but the opposite of choice. Death is what you get when there are no choices left to make. Am I right?

C'était pénible d'être témoin d'une si terrible

One can ignore pain. But when the body invokes weakness, determination is useless.

Had she learned to feel again, only to have to feel this? Could any amount of love ever be worth the pain of losing it?

Were there not times when death would have been easier and less painful than life?" His words were shards of ice in my belly, but I am nothing if not stubborn. "Well. And when is that ever not true?

There is nothing dishonerable about abondoning pain. Sometimes peace is most quickly found when a man simply stops avoiding it.

Death is always less painful and easier than life! You speak true. And yet we do not, day to day, choose death. Because ultimately, death is not the opposite of life, but the opposite of choice. Death is what you get when there are no choices left to make.

The third section tells the rest of the story also from the cross's perspective, vividly elaborating its feelings as it is pierced with nails, spat upon, then cast aside. The poem concludes when the original narrator awakens. The cross charges him to hold it in awe, share the vision with others, and to follow the path to righteousness.

Not so the French poilu. His pay was meagre, his food disgusting - though his wine was drinkable - his leave infrequent, letters from home often failed to arrive, and his life was all too often thrown away in frontal attacks that usually achieved nothing but an extensive casualty list. Much of this was simply due to poor staff work, to incompetence rather than indifference

We all tend to believe that suffering is a mark of true love, that to refuse to suffer is selfish, and that if a man has a problem then a woman should help him change.

To be without the relationship, that is to be alone with oneself, can be experienced as worse than being in the greatest pain the relationship produces because to be alone means to feel the stirrings of the great pain from the past combined with that of the present.