Quotes About Suffering

I underlined this: "The fundamental note which she sounds is that of pain. The pain of isolation. The very keynote of the artist's eternal rack.

Gostava dos infernos do amor, do amor misturado com os grandes sofrimentos e os grandes obstáculos. Queria matar monstros, lutar e vencer inimigos como um novo dom Quixote.

Será que o amor sempre acabava por se transformar em uma longa sucessão de sofrimentos?

A ansiedade penetrara em seu corpo e se recusava a se espalhar por ele. Os buracos prateados de sua peneira contra a mágoa, que lhes haviam sido outorgados ao nascer, obstruíram-se. Agora a dor se alojara dentro dela, inescapável.

because then the sum of experiences, of suffering, of self-analysis and soul-struggle have mellowed the individual and he can aid because he speaks and moves out of a ripe, conscious wisdom—not through precepts, ideas, formulas.

Send for the doctor! I need a medicine man who will solder my body and soul together, which splits at every separation. The doctor says it is the flu. He cannot see the body is empty, the fire is gone, I am king without kingdom, and artist without a home, a stranger to luxury, to power, to bigness, to comfort. I lost a world, a small human world of love and friendship. I am not adventurer, I miss my home, familiar streets, those I love and know well.

The secret of joy is the mastery of pain.

All those who try to unveil the mysteries always have tragic lives. At the end they are always punished.

Living never wore one so much as the effort not to live.

The man who was once starved may revenge himself upon the world not by stealing just once, or by stealing only what he needs, but by taking from the world an endless toll in payment of something irreplaceable, which is the lost faith.

I see enormous loves growing immense and finally crushing me.

L'esprit saura se priver de puissance, disait Alain, de toute espèce de puissance ; tel est le plus haut règne » et la leçon du calvaire2312. Et Simone Weil : « Quiconque prend l'épée périra par l'épée. Et quiconque ne prend pas l'épée (ou la lâche) périra sur la croix

Profound optimism is always on the side of the tortured.

Poverty makes a slave out of men. In order to eat he will accept work that gives no pleasure.

The loveliest creations of men are persistently painful. What would be the description of happiness?

How happy Ménalque is, I thought, since he has nothing! As for me, I am suffering because I want to conserve things. What importance is all this in the end?

Martyr, c'est pourir un peu.

Amas lo inhumano.

Disease had taken hold of Marceline, never again to leave her; it had marked her, stained her. Henceforth she was a thing that had been spoiled.

How lucky Ménalque is, I thought, owning nothing! It is because I want to save things that I suffer. What does it all really matter?

I think he must have made my mother very unhappy, and yet he loved her—that is, if he ever really loved anyone.

De armoede van de mens is een slaaf; om te eten aanvaardt ze werk waarin ze geen vreugde heeft; alle werk dat niet vreugdevol is, is verwerpelijk, dacht ik, en ik betaalde de rust van velen. Ik zei: 'Werk maar niet; je vindt het vervelend.' Ik droomde voor ieder van hen van de vrijheid waarzonder niets nieuws kan ontbloeien, geen enkel kwaad, geen enkele kunst.

Natanael, am s?-È›i vorbesc despre aÈ™tept?ri. Am v?zut câmpia dup? arÈ™iÈ›a verii, aÈ™teptând; aÈ™teptând un pic de ploaie. Praful de pe drumuri devenise prea uÈ™or È™i fiecare adiere îl stârnea. Nu mai era nici m?car o dorin??; era o temere. P?mântul cr?pa de secet? pentru a primi mai bine ploaia. Miresmele florilor de câmpie deveneau aproape de nesuportat. Totul leÈ™ina sub soare.

On my way out with the rest, I glanced back at Bowman. he was on this knees, his hair in his face, his nose and split lips dripping with blood. He was staring down at the floor like he'd been waiting for this and now it had finally happened; he look relieved.