Quotes About Suffering

She felt such fury and pain she thought she'd choke on it.

Her forehead fell to rest on the tile, her eyes burning, flooding, overflowing with the pain he seemed unable to express and she couldn't escape.

Widespread cultural suffering for Métis people began around the time when the fur trade was nearing its end and the colonial period was beginning (Mackie, 1996) - p. 38

Métis writer Joeanne Arnott (1994) notes that, passing is one of the very few options for survival of a mixed-race people in virulently racist society (59). The decision to withhold important information about cultural ancestry is one that causes pain and suffering in the long term. (p.39)

He had lived as a handful of taffy between his mother and his father all his life, had been pulled in so many directions, stretched here and there, that all he could do was plaster a mighty smile on his face.

I always knew this day would come. I just didn't know where, or when. I certainly never imagined it would be in a place like this, on a planet killer the like of which the galaxy has never seen. A million voices cry out as one, washing over me, their pain my own.

VENTRESS: (MOCKING) Because, repeat after me, younglings, hate leads to suffering and suffering leads… KY NAREC: (GHOST) Yes? VENTRESS: To the dark side. Do you know what? Yes. Yes, it does. (TAKES A DRINK) And I for one like it here.

hundreds of butts in piles on the ground to mark the spot, their lives sucked out of them by their users in panicked distressed frenzy, their souls floating around the insides of lungs while their outsides were dropped, stamped on and deserted

If only they knew how his days were covered in darkness, as if someone had turned off the light switch in his mind; if only they knew how his waking up in the morning was the first disappoint of every day. He was tired, he had nothing left to give, no more ideas to try.

When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground, it makes a crashing sound. When a window shatters, a table breaks, or a picture fall of the wall, it makes noise. But as for your heart, when that breaks, it's completely silent... and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain.

Poverty is a giant, it uses your face like a mop to wipe away the world's garbage.

The great lovers will always be unhappy, because for them love is great and so they ask of their beloved the same intensity of thought that they have for her – otherwise they feel betrayed.

One does not kill oneself for love of a woman, but because love—any love—reveals us in our nakedness, our misery, our vulnerability, our nothingness.

Life is pain and the enjoyment of love is an anesthetic.

The cadence of suffering has begun. Every evening at dusk, my heart constricts until night has come.

If it is true that one gets used to suffering, how is it that as the years go one always suffers more? No, they are not mad, those people who amuse themselves, enjoy life, travel, make love, fight—they are not mad. We should like to do the same ourselves.

We live less than the time it takes to blink an eye, if we measure our lives against eternity. So it may be asked what value is there to a human life. There is so much pain in the world. What does it mean to have to suffer so much if our lives are nothing more than the blink of an eye? . . .I learned a long time ago, Reuven, that a blink of an eye in itself is nothing. But the eye that blinks, that is something.

I cannot have gone through what I went through and have lost what I lost if it's all meaningless.

And then I was crying too, crying with Danny, silently, for his pain and for the years of his suffering, knowing that I loved him, and not knowing whether I hated or loved the long, anguished years of his life.

How should a Jew feel? There we went through the seven gates of hell for matzos. Here I stand in matzos over my head. So how should a Jew feel? You are an angel of God, and the Rebbe, he should live and be well, the Rebbe made miracles and wonders for me. At night, I tell myself it is a dream and I am afraid to wake up. If it is a dream, better I should not wake up, better I should die in my sleep.

God killed my little sister. That's right, Lev. A little girl, suddenly sick and dead. Everything He touches is destroyed. Casagemas, Apollinaire, Eva, Max Jacob. How do you worship Him, Lev? He's the true destroyer. Satan works out in the open, cards on the table. He gives it to you straight, no games. God plays at sweetness and goodness, and kills you. Who's worse, Satan or God? Satan at least has the decency to show us his real face. So I pay God back with my paintings.

An Austrian philosopher named Jean Améry, tortured by the Gestapo because of his activity with the Belgian resistance and then deported to Auschwitz because he was a Jew, wrote that anyone who has been tortured remains forever tortured and can never again be at ease in the world. One's faith in humanity is broken and can never be acquired again.

I've never known of a serious artist who was happy. Except maybe Rubens.

Oh, if I could paint this, I thought. Ribbono Shel Olom, if I could paint this world, this clean world of rain and patterns on glass, and trees on my street, and people beneath the trees. I would even paint and draw pain and suffering if I could paint and draw the other, too. I would paint the rain as tears and I would paint the rain as waters of purification. What do they want from me? Ribbono Shel Olom, it's Your gift. Why don't You show them it's Your gift?