Quotes About Suffering

Agora, eu ia arrastado, nesta fuga em massa, para a morte em comum, para o fogo… Isto vinha das profundezas mais recônditas e tinha acontecido.

Le monde ne sait que vous tuer comme un dormeur quand il se retourne le monde, sur vous, comme un dormeur tue ses puces. Voilà qui serait certes mourir bien sottement, que je me dis, comme tout le monde, c'est-à-dire. Faire confiance aux hommes c'est déjà se faire tuer un peu.

Voltei só para mim mesmo, muito contente de ser ainda mais infeliz do que fora, porque trouxera para a minha solidão uma nova forma de angústia e qualquer coisa que se parecia a sentimento verdadeiro.

Strange how it was always the spoiled who weakened and cried first, and it was the injured, the maimed, the blind, and the poor who fought on alone.

My friend, there is a Hell. It's when a man has a family to support, has his health and is ready to work, and there is no work to do. When he stands with empty hands and sees his children going hungry, his wife without the things to do with. I hope you never have to try it.

How much can a man endure? How long could a man continue? These things I asked myself, for I am a questioning man, yet even as I asked the answers were there before me. If he be a man indeed, he must always go on, he must always endure. Death is an end to torture, to struggle, to suffering, but it is also an end to warmth, light, the beauty of a running horse, the smell of damp leaves, of gunpowder, the walk of a woman when she knows someone watches. . . these things, too, are gone.

many Europeans were enslaved in North Africa and elsewhere. Africans were enslaved here, and slavery of one kind or another existed over much of the world. Even the poor of Europe lived lives but little different from those of slaves, and in many cases they were worse off. Slaves were at least fed and clothed by their masters, and the poor of Europe had no such care.

Anxiety is the price tag on human freedom

How many onions do you think we've eaten?" he asked. Zero shrugged. "I don't even know how long we've been here." "I'd say about a week," said Stanley. "And we probably each eat about twenty onions a day, so that's…" "Two hundred and eighty onions," said Zero. Stanley smiled. "I bet we really stink.

Broken bones and blood and gore, blood and gore, blood and gore. Broken bones and blood and gore

die a slow and painful death.

Meg's high-heeled slippers were dreadfully tight, and hurt her, though she would not own it; and Jo's nineteen hair-pins all seemed stuck straight into her head, which was not exactly comfortable; but, dear me, let us be elegant or die.

During the fifteen minutes that followed, the proud and sensitive girl suffered a shame and pain which she never forgot. To others it might seem a ludicrous or trivial affair, but to her it was a hard experience, for during the twelve years of her life she had been governed by love alone

Love and Loyalty If ever men and women are their simplest, sincerest selves, it is when suffering softens the one, and sympathy strengthens the other.

had an hour of silent agony that aged him more than years of happy life could have done.

thirst is harder to bear than hunger, heat, or cold.

Perhaps it would have been better if he had killed me; my life is spoilt.

she discovered that her feet were cold, her head ached, and that her heart was colder than the former, fuller of pain than the latter.

I sell my children, and though they feed me, they don't love me as hers do.

It's so dreadful to be poor!

Meg's high-heeled slippers were very tight and hurt her, though she would not own it, and Jo's nineteen hairpins all seemed stuck straight into her head, which was not exactly comfortable, but, dear me, let us be elegant or die.

As she said, she was "fond of luxury," and her chief trouble was poverty.

Six children are huddled into one bed to keep from freezing, for they have no fire. There is nothing to eat over there, and the oldest boy came to tell me they were suffering hunger and cold.

A poor, bare, miserable room it was, with broken windows, no fire, ragged bedclothes, a sick mother, wailing baby, and a group of pale, hungry children cuddled under one old quilt, trying to keep warm.