Quotes About Suffering

On the way we encountered many other people: families on the move, women wearily limping along behind their men, carrying bundles on their heads and babies strapped on their backs, their children tottering alongside, dragging behind them bags and baskets overflowing with artefacts of their dislocated lives. [256]

I will share the pain of your doing, if you will share the joy of my Undoing.

Yitzchak was bad enough, but how could He abandon Moshe so cruelly? But her ire was quickly quelled by the immediate guilt that followed whenever she doubted her faith.

To be silent and consumed by fire is the worst punishment on earth

You tormented a hummingbird of love between your teeth.

Like a snake, my heart has shed its skin. I hold it there in my hand, full of honey and wounds. The thoughts that nested in your folds, where are they now?...

El verdadero dolor que mantiene despiertas las cosas es una pequeña quemadura infinita

I see fetal sciences in you, mummified poems, and bones of my romantic secrets and old innocence. Shall I hang you on the wall of my emotional museum, beside the dark, chill, sleeping irises of my evil? Or shall I spread you over the pines ?suffering book of my love? so you can learn about the song the nightingale offers the dawn?...

Song of the Barren Orange Tree" Woodcutter. Cut out my shadow. Free me from the torture of seeing myself fruitless. Why was I born among mirrors? The daylight revolves around me. And the night herself repeats me in all her constellations. I want to live not seeing self. I shall dream the husks and insects change inside my dreaming into my birds and foliage. Woodcutter. Cut out my shadow. Free me from the torture

Como si hablara con un niño) Te diré, niño mío, que sí, Tronchada y rota soy para ti ¡Cómo me duele esta cintura donde tendrás primera cuna! ¿Cuándo mi niño vas a venir?

YERMA. Yo he venido a estas cuatro paredes para no resignarme. Cuando tenga la cabeza atada con un pañuelo para que no se me abra la boca, y las manos bien amarradas dentro del ataúd, en esa hora me habré resignado. JUAN

In the borough, three boys circled a white camel that wept because at dawn there was no other way except through the needle's eye! Oh cross! Oh, nails! Oh, thorn! Oh, thorn driven to the bone until the planet rust to pieces!

Me duele hasta la punta de las venas.

Y sin embargo la esperanza me persigue, me ronda, me muerde; como un lobo moribundo que apretara sus dientes por última vez.

Pero debajo de las estatuas no hay amor, no hay amor bajo los ojos de cristal definitivo, El amor está en las carnes desgarradas por la sed, en la choza diminuta que lucha con la inundación; el amor está en los fosos donde luchan las sierpes del hambre, en el triste mar que mece los cadáveres de las gaviotas y en el oscurísimo beso punzante debajo de las almohadas.

Like a snake, my heart has shed its skin. I hold it here in my hand, full of honey and wounds. - New Heart

Pero donde más sufría era en la memoria

I was in the situation of someone who has assumed, all his life, that madness was on eway, and suddenly in its grip, discovers that it is not only different from the way he'd imagined but that the person suffering from it is someone else, and that this someone else is not interested in finding out what madness is like: he is simply immersed in it, or it has descended on him, and that's that.

The less you hurt others, the more you get hurt yourself.

No.. no questo tipo no, non è capace. Questo vuole prendere tutto, arraffare tutto, non sa rinunciare a niente; cambia strada ogni giorno perché ha paura di perdere quella giusta, e sta morendo, come dissanguato.

The suffering at such times [of bereavement] can be great, I know. But it is somehow comforting to learn, even through suffering, how large and powerful love is.

The past is a presence between us. In all my mother does and says, the past continually discloses itself in the smallest ways. She sees it directly; I see its shadow. Still, it pulses in my fingertips, feeds on my consciousness. It is a backdrop for each act, each drama of our lives. I have absorbed a sense of what she has suffered, what she has lost, even what her mother endured and handed down. It is my emotional gene map.

chamão de gregoge, que foi, serrarem-os vivos pelos. pés, e pelas mãos, e pelos pescoços, e por derradeiro pelos peitos até o fio do lombo, como os eu vi depois a todos.

War, the begetter of all things, the creature of all things, the river with a thousand sources, the sea without a shore: begetter of all things except peace, so ardently longed for, so rarely attained.