Quotes About Suffering

they did not know what suffering was, that if they suffered from anything it was precisely this lack of suffering

took Lily Sergeyev to see Gone with the Wind in the West End. Lily's kidneys ached, and she was running a temperature. She had convinced herself, once again, that she was

I am bleeding to death. It doesn't hurt at all.

If only my head were finally not my responsibility, could be put into someone else's care, could be made to merge with other persons and the world so that it would no longer suffer such distance and touchlessness, would no longer even be a head, because even when touched, there are parts of my head not being touched. Even underwater parts of my head feel dry.

The road will never swallow you. The river of destiny will always overcome evil. May you understand your fate. Suffering will never destroy you, but will make you stronger. Success will never confuse you of scatter your spirit, but will make you fly higher into the good sunlight. Your life will always surprise you.

A tolerable hell is better than an impossible heaven.

He saw the world in which black people always suffered and he didn't like it. He saw a world in which human beings suffered so needlessly from Antipodes to Equator, and he didn't like it either. He saw our people drowning in poverty, in famine, drought, in divisiveness and the blood of war. He saw our people always preyed upon by other powers, manipulated by the Western world, our history and achievements rigged out of existence.

There are many reasons why babies cry when they are born, and one of them is the sudden separation from the world of pure dreams, where all things are made of enchantment, and where there is no suffering.

I also knew that because he was safely on the right side, the strongest side, he would never understand what it was like to live with seven corpses in your dreams, to live with women eaten by ringworm, or children bursting with stomach worms.

The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering.

The law is simple. Every experience is repeated or suffered till you experience it properly and fully the first time.

Bad things will happen and good things too. Your life will be full of surprises. Miracles happen only where there has been suffering. So taste your grief to the fullest. Don't try and press it down. Don't hide from it. Don't escape. It is life too. It is truth. But it will pass and time will put a strange honey in the bitterness. That's the way life goes.

On ne connaît pas la véritable souffrance tant qu'on n'en est pas arrivé à souhaiter mourrir.

Choisir la mort, c'est insulter l'espoir ; or, même si on nage dans le désespoir, l'espoir demeure toujours.

Instead, morality must be boiled down to mere competition of interests, and the desire of human beings to avoid suffering and untimely death. In a state of nature, "nothing can be Unjust. The notions of Right and Wrong, Justice and Injustice have there no place. Where there is no common Power, there is no Law; where no Law, no Injustice."5 If moral relativism began anywhere, it began in Hobbes.

those who suffer from gender dysphoria may not be suffering from societal bigotry, but from something far deeper and more dangerous, and that physical mutilation and stumping for tolerance will not solve their problems.

For the cold of the pistol-butt and the bullet's heat, For the ropes that choke, the manacles that bind, The huge voice, metal, that lies from a thousand tubes And the stuttering machine-gun that answers all.

Why have you taken my heart from me? I am not justice nor loyalty. I am the shape of the weathercock, That all winds come to and all winds mock. You are the image of the sea-carved stone, The silent thing that can suffer alone, The little women are easier, The easy women make lighter love, I will not take your face to war, I will not carry your cast-off glove.

Black trees against an orange sky, Trees that the wind shook terribly, Like a harsh spume along the road, Quavering up like withered arms, Writhing like streams, like twisted charms Of hot lead flung in snow. Below The iron ice stung like a goad, Slashing the torn shoes from my feet, And all the air was bitter sleet.

For those slain at once. For those living through the months and years Enduring, watching, hoping, going each day To the work or the queue for meat or the secret club, Living meanwhile, begetting children, smuggling guns, And found and killed at the end like rats in a drain.

Vivir es relacionarse, gozar y padecer, desear, aborrecer y amar. La lectura es vida artificial y prestada, el usufructo, mediante una función cerebral, de las ideas y sensaciones ajenas, la adquisición de los tesoros de la verdad humana por compra o por estafa, no por el trabajo. No

Benito Pérez Galdós

Me parece que estoy viajando por el interior de un cerebro atacado de violentísima jaqueca.

Los ciegos serían felices en este país, que para la lengua es paraíso y para los ojos infierno.