Quotes About Suffering

Suffering passes, while love is eternal. That's a gift that you have received from God. Don't waste it.

According to the law that governs the universe,all sufferings are your labor of love to unveil your real self.

For to love, loveless, is a bitter pill:But to be loved, unloving, bitterer still.

The best thing you can say to someone going through a tragic loss is not that "It's going to be alright" It is: "Hold on tight because this is going to hurt like hell".

Raft of the Medusa.

I think there are lovely sunsets in hell—and that's where my desire for you is sending me

This pain is comfort. It is the solace of physicality, like a touch.

Suffering is inevitable. It is part of the human condition. It is written in the human script.

Job understood that he was nothing more than God's invention and so too was his suffering

To lose one parent might be considered a misfortune, or a reason to deny God's existence at the least. To lose two looks like He may be up to something.

Inhumanity is part of humanity as much as suffering is a part of stories. Cruelty is written in the human script.

His suffering was no more real than he was.

Is the writer cruel that makes his characters suffer only to bring them to triumph or tragedy in the end?

The characters act for reasons that they can't control and, as readers, we have to believe in their motivations, their sense of choice and in the reality of their suffering, even though, deep down, we know it's all just puppetry on the part of the writer.

The last thousand miles you walk will hurt the most -Johnny The Walker

noch will das alte unsre Herzen quälen noch drückt uns böser Tage schwere Last, ach Herr, gib unsren aufgeschreckten Seelen das Heil, für das Du uns geschaffen hast.

I swallowed. "Mum, you're not going to get divorced, are you?" Her eyes shot open. "Divorced? I'm a good Catholic girl, Louisa. We don't divorce. We just make our men suffer for all eternity." She waited just for a moment, and then she started to laugh.

I chose to believe that God, a benign God, would understand our sufferings and forgive us our trespasses.

Soon I could hold Édouard to me. We would be joined in the next life, because I knew surely that if God was good, He would not be so cruel as to deprive us of this consolation.

There is nothing redemptive about the loss of a child, no lessons of value it can teach you. It is too big, too overwhelming, too black to articulate. It is a bleak, overwhelming physical pain, shocking in its intensity, and every time you think you might have moved forward an inch it swells back, like a tidal wave, to drown you again.

It seemed unfair that despite the fact he could not use them, or feel them, his extremities should cause him so much discomfort.

No, it was the livid red lines scoring Will's wrists, the long, jagged scars that couldn't be disguised, no matter how swiftly Nathan pulled down Will's sleeves.

I was so furious, you see, that all around me were things that could move and bend and grow and reproduce, and my son- my vital, charismatic, beautiful boy- was just this thing. Immobile, wilted, bloodied, suffering.

The fact that I am no longer tormented by your proximity, or presented with daily evidence of my inability to have the one thing I truly want, has not healed me. It