Quotes About Suffering

If drugs could heal what was broken inside her, she'd be an addict. Who wouldn't? Sometimes life hurt, and you just had to suck it up. It

I think this is the danger we face whenever time passes and those who have suffered recover from what flattened them. The generation coming up behind might underestimate or miss completely all that the older generation survived. Q.

And what does war even accomplish? How does one country win over another by simply killing its people? None of it makes any sense.

Why do people hurt other people? I murmur. Lila laughs. Because they can, sweetheart. I look at the face in the mirror, at that sad face. That can't be the reason Lila leans in. Her face is next to mine.... ...Sometimes they just can't help it, she says. They don't mean to hurt anyone. It just happens. And there's nothing you can do about it. Nothing ? Not unless you've got a magic wand, love.

Shut your eyes to the world of pain, and you also shut your eyes to the world of delight.

There is only the stunningly fragile human body, a holy creation capable of loving with such astonishing strength but which is weak to the curses of a fallen world. We are like butterflies, delicate and wonderful, here on earth for only a brilliant moment and then away we fly. Death is appointed to merely close the door to our suffering and open wide the gate to Paradise.

Fear is worse than pain, I think. Pain is centralized, identifiable, and wanes as you wait. Fear is a heaviness you can't wriggle out from under.

I had discovered early at Ellis that a hospital nurse performs the same tasks day after day after day, and that an odd solace can be found in the monotony of those duties. Were it not for the steady thrum of the routine, the spectacle of unending human suffering would be a hospital nurse's undoing.

He had made his decision. Later in life Ann would learn that when certain men made decisions no matter how much it might torture them afterwards they would stick with their decision. Men, she learned, would rather suffer than change their minds or their habits. They could develop elaborate systems for containing pain, sometimes so successful they would remain completely unaware of the vastness of the pain they possessed.

How could a good God create a world full of innocent suffering?

For the Gnostics and for the fiction writer evil is the source of all moral understanding; the function of evil, in the best of conditions, is tension and imbalance, the eventual creation, through suffering and misfortune, of wisdom.

When people are suffering, they're not open to hearing horror stories about others with similar maladies. There is less capacity for compassion at such moments.

When you are sad, your heart pumps the tragedy all through your body and fills your mind with the story of your suffering, and you tell that story to yourself over and over.

For if we are not careful, we may experience one or more perverse realizations of AI technology—situations in which AI fails to make life easier but instead leads to our own suffering or demise, or to the exploitation of other conscious beings.

It hurts to love. It's like giving yourself to be flayed and knowing that at any moment the other person may just walk off with your skin.

We are born, we suffer, we die. However, love is a possibility for us all and, for some few, there is also a big house." Daniel could not resist asking, because he really wanted to know. "Need they be mutually exclusive? Can't we have both love and house?" Joe smiled. "Certainly. But one must consider carefully how one goes about getting the house.

Amar es ponerse al cuello el nudo corredizo de la ilusión; adorar a alguien mientras pareces asfixiarte. Pero incluso el amor no correspondido, el amor fugaz, es mejor que nada.

Now, weavers who worked at home couldn't get anyone to buy their cloth unless they sold it for less. Since they made less money from each piece, they had to work longer. Weavers worked for sixteen hours a day, their fingers sore and their eyes red -- and still couldn't make enough money to buy food.

In a strange way we were free. We'd reached the end of the line. We had nothing more to lose. Our privacy, our liberty, our dignity: all of this was gone and we were stripped down to the bare bones of our selves

Hey, babe," I said. "Love hurts.

And I'd said, wouldn't it be easier if you just hit me once in the face, and got it over with?

A dangerous thrift it is to amass Only a treasury of regrets. He who holds them too close to his heart Suffers justly, and nothing forgets.

We star-crossed lovers of District 12, who suffered so much and enjoyed so little the rewards of our victory, do not seek our fans' favor, grace them with our smiles, or catch their kisses. We are unforgiving. And I love it. Getting to be myself at last.

Trapped for days, years, centuries maybe. Dead, but not allowed to die. Alive, but as good as dead. So alone that anyone, anything no matter how loathsome would be welcome.