Quotes About Suffering

No platitudes, Dr. Cerrasin? No 'God doesn't give you more than you can bear' speech?" "Call me Max. Please." He looked at her. "And sometimes God breaks your fucking back." It

Pagaliau Izabel? pratr?ko verkti išraudodama visk?-skausm?,netekt?,baim? ir pykt?, kar?, tai,k? jis padar? jai, k? padar? jiems visiems, blogio pažinim?,kurio jau niekada nebenusikratys, stovykloje patirt? siaub? ir pastang? išgyventi klaikum?.

Oradour-sur-Glane —no lejos de Carriveau— y habían conducido a sus habitantes a punta de fusil hasta la iglesia, supuestamente para comprobar su documentación.

smell of vomit and mold and decay. His lungs and nostrils ache. He can't breathe without gasping.

Never to suffer would never to have been blessed.

Not, not mine: it's somebody else's wound. I could never have borne it. So take the thing that happened, hide it, stick it in the ground. Whisk the lamps away . . . Night.

Heartache had been a part of her life so long it had become as familiar as the color of her hair on the slight curve in her spine. Sometimes it was the lens through which she viewed her world and sometimes it was the blindfold she wore so she didn`t see.

a viciousness that left her bleeding. "Schnell!

Never has the chasm between progress and poverty been so hauntingly large in this country as it is today. We are in the clutches of an economic depression so carnivorous and insatiable, it's eating the very fabric of our lives. We are sacrificing our children to it, our future. And no one, it seems, is listening.

The modern world no longer believed in senseless tragedy. Bad things couldn't just happen to people; someone had to pay.

How long could hungry, homeless, starving people stand up for an idea?

We're all fragile, Isabelle. It's the thing that we learn in war

Such teeth in this pain. Gnawing at her, then spitting her out to breathe for a moment and then biting again.

This is what the world should be, Red. People helping each other instead of killing their mothers for a little bread.

Instead, Loreda saw hobos gathered around the train depot, wearing rags, their back pockets turned inside out in what were being called Hoover flags. A shoe with holes was a Hoover shoe. Everyone knew who to blame for the Depression but not how to fix it.

Consciousness brought pain.

It hurts so much to love you.

German woman yanked Isabelle forward. She stumbled along, her feet screaming in pain

Tenía el aspecto pálido y enfermizo de alguien que nunca sabía cuándo iba a comer. Y, sin embargo, le estaba ofreciendo comida.

Whose Names Are Unknown

It is not your fault. Sometimes all the love in the world can't protect a person against his fate.

Where? Where did he go?" "East." Eva took a deep breath. "To a work camp called Auschwitz. In Poland." "But that's impossible. He was taken less than a week ago. And we live in France, Eva. This doesn't happen in France." "I'm afraid it does." Eva could see the crush of people penned up at Drancy each time she closed her eyes. "But we left Poland. We—we are French." "We are Jews.

In the spring, tattered and emaciated Jews who had spent the war in the concentration camps to the east had begun to return. Those who had lost family members peered into the faces of these walking skeletons, struggling to find the people they were so sure they'd never see again. Sometimes, there were joyous reunions. Mostly, though, the survivors returned to find that everyone they loved had perished and that their reward for enduring hell was a renewed sense of loss and despair.

Nothing matters until it hurts.