Quotes About Suffering

I know there is a God because in Rwanda I shook hands with the devil. I have seen him, I have smelled him and I have touched him. I know the devil exists and therefore I know there is a God.

After all, Father, to understand their demonstration one doesn't have to be very intelligent: it's enough to have suffered.

Millions of people live in pain and anguish throughout the world, and it doesn't leak. I mean, it doesn't reach anyone. It isn't catching, as you say.

Starzy majÄ… takÄ… samÄ… warto?? jak wszyscy, nawet jak siÄ™ zmniejszajÄ…. CzujÄ… tak samo jak wy i ja i czasami nawet jeszcze bardziej przez to cierpiÄ…, bo ju? nie mogÄ… sobie da? rady. Atakuje ich natura, która potrafi by? wstrÄ™tna maÅ'pa i wykaÅ"cza ich na wolnym ogniu.

Madame Rosa voyait que les gens devenaient de plus en plus gentils avec elle et ce n'est jamais bon signe.

They had spent a few years in Paris, but they had still to undergo a real education — one which no school, lycee or university could supply: they had still to undergo their education in suffering. Then they'd be ready to understand what this was all about.

I too have often felt the need to understand it all; but I know my limits. In my life I've done more suffering than thinking — though I believe one understands better that way.

Ça veut mourir d'amour, dit-elle. Alors, tu devrais te dépêcher. Parce que ça va se mettre à mourir de tous les côtés, et ça ne va pas être d'amour, crois-moi.

An unbearable reality, combined with the impossibility to change it, tends to lead to abstractions for abstraction's sake, and unreality becomes more realistic than reality itself, more true, more convincing, simply because it looks at you with the eyes of justice.

They thought I suffered from lack of exterior, when I suffered from excess of interior

Of what use are such as cannot serve! Yet these are the most innocent victims of this war. They have not taken part in it, and nothing had prepared them for such calamities.

They were the only members of their family, and they were both humble, crushed, and thrust aside by life; they were united in sadness and tenderness by a bond of mutual pity and common suffering, borne in secret. With the Kraffts—robust, noisy, brutal, solidly built for living, and living joyously—these two weak, kindly creatures, out of their setting, so to speak, outside life, understood and pitied each other without ever saying anything about it.

To a man whose mind is free there is something even more intolerable in the sufferings of animals than in the sufferings of man. For with the latter it is at least admitted that suffering is evil and that the man who causes it is a criminal. But thousands of animals are uselessly butchered every day without a shadow of remorse. If any man were to refer to it, he would be thought ridiculous. And that is the unpardonable crime.

I've seen knives pierce the chest, Children dying in the road Crawling things hooked and baited, Rapists bound and then castrated, Villains singed in public square. Yet none these sights did make me cringe Like when my Love cut all her hair.

I've seen daggers pierce the chest, Children dying in the road, Crawling things hooked and baited, Rapists bound and then castrated, Villains singed in public square. Yet none these sights did make me cringe Like when my Love cut all her hair.

A tired man lay down his head in a dusty room so dim, and for so long his wife did shake and yell to waken him. Meanwhile his thoughts, his dreams, did stir of sandy, red bullfights, of powder-blasts in the air and carnival delights. Yet still his wife was in despair in a dusty room so dim, for she knew death was a whore not far from tempting him.

Jesus was no cold Superman—he was more human than any of us. Entirely pure, unweakened by evil, he was loving and open to the core. His ardor, truth, sensitivity, power, capacity for joy and pain were unlimited, and everything that happened to him happened in the immeasurableness of his divinity.

Pain is the price we pay for memory. It's some kind of sin to forget what hurts, as much as it is to forget what makes us smile. Suffering has its meaning, and memory has its graces.

Wounded and nearly blind with fear, I clung to the Scriptures: 'Ask and you shall receive...' 'Pray without ceasing...' 'I will do whatever you ask for in My name...' Grimly, I shut out another verse, this one from the book of Job: 'The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

The tortures occur," he wrote. "If they are unnecessary, then there is no God, or a bad one. If there is a good God, then these tortures are necessary for no even moderately good Being could possibly inflict them if they weren't.

The tortures occur," he wrote. "If they are unnecessary, then there is no God, or a bad one. If there is a good God, then these tortures are necessary for no even moderately good Being could possibly inflict or permit them if they weren't.

is tragic to see the wounded being used as political props. This must be done to satisfy the subconscious guilt of those who supported the war and are morally responsible for all the suffering. Without this, the promoters and instigators of aggressive wars would experience the guilt that would come with facing the truth. Few ever admit their errors in judgment nor lament their actions that brought death, destruction, and heartache.

The torment of hell is not fire and brimstone, pitchforks and claws, or, as Dante supposed, aimless wandering, unsatisfied lust, icy rain, foul swamps, or any kind of eternal violence. Hell is a place utterly without God.

Too many of the mentally ill in our country live under conditions of atrocity. Storytelling