Quotes About Suffering

Remain in Me." It is the Word of God who gives this order, expresses this wish. Remain in Me, not for a few moments, a few hours which must pass away, but "remain . . ." permanently, habitually, Remain in Me, pray in Me, adore in Me, love in Me, suffer in Me, work and act in Me.

What was wrong with her? Why did things like this keep happening to her? Love wasn't supposed to hurt, yet it felt like all she knew when it came to love was pain. Every time she opened her heart, she just got burned. Or, in this case, frozen. And she was getting sick and tired of it.

Ice cream is just a Band-Aid. Pain is still there when you wake up.

I deserved the shaking and the headaches and the fact that every single time I took a breath I felt a squeezing in my chest, my heart beating even though I wished it wasn't.

I do not fall. I fell so hard so long ago there is nothing left for me to land on. I just keep falling and falling and falling.

I thought living dead girls couldn't feel pain, thought I was emptied out but I'm not, I'm not.

And yet here I am. Broken and bleeding on the inside, heartsick, I am here.

Like a heart, and I wish mine wasn't beating.

There's no good way to die, you know? No way I've seen, anyway. It all ends with tubes and bedpans and IVs and I just-- smoking gets me out of there. Gets me outside, gets me away from all the--" "Sick people?" I say, and she shakes her head. "Away from my life.

I hurt all over even more now, like someone has shattered my insides, like I've been torn apart and put back together but I'm missing something. Her. And him. My brother.

I don't understand why my shell keeps living. Breathing. Why won't it listen to me, to the little part I have that isn't Ray, to that tiny once upon a time girl who just wants to close her eyes and never wake up again? 623 Daisy Lane. Helen and Glenn. That's why. Once upon a time, I belonged to them and they shouldn't suffer for that.

he has martyred me, but for no cause

God, come down out of the eucalyptus tree outside my window, and tell me who will drown in so much blood.

The page is as white as my face after a night of weeping. It is as sterile as my devastated mind. All martyrdoms are in vain. He also is drowning in the blood of too much sacrifice. Lay aside the weapons, love, for all battles are lost.

Hope was a cancer inside him. He didn't want it; he did not want it. He could not bear these shoots of tender green hope springing up within him any longer. (45)

And Olive thought about this: the way people can love those they barely know, and how abiding that love can be, and also how deep that love can be, even when—as in her own case—it was temporary. She thought of Betty and her stupid bumper sticker, and the child who had been so frightened that Halima Butterfly had told her about, and yet to tell any of this right now to Betty, who was genuinely suffering—as Olive had suffered—seemed cruel, and she kept silent.

We are alone in these things that we suffer.

She wanted to be dead and she wanted her daughter to be dead too so that neither of them would have to face the unbearable business of continuing on. It

You could buy a snow blower or a nice wool dress for your wife, but beneath it all people were rats scurrying off to find garbage to eat, another rat to hump, making a nest in broken bricks, and soiling it so sourly that one's contribution to the world was only more excrement.

deep down there is a thing inside me, and sometimes it swells up like the head of a squid and shoots blackness through me.

Pain, like a pinecone unfolding, seemed to blossom beneath her breastbone.

You could buy a snow blower or a nice wool dress for your wife, but beneath it all people were rats scurrying off to find garbage to eat, another rat to hump, making a nest in broken bricks, and soiling it so sourly that one's contribution to the world was only more excrement.

As has often been the case with me, I began to dread this in advance... But early on I saw this: You are wasting time by suffering twice. I mention this only to show how many things the mind cannot will itself to do, even if it wants to.

bodies becoming like prisons with the person stuck inside. Screaming, or not screaming, but staring at you like you should do something.