Quotes About Suffering

Equally dead, equally bound. You will live as you live anywhere. With difficulty, and grief.

He rested his hand on mine, once or twice. He kissed my brow, one time, in the late evening when the stars were full as moons, and I had brought him both a jug of wine and a treatise on transfiguration he had been asking for all over town, and I felt it on my head like a pain. But love is like that, it is hard and awful and, usually, it is not contagious.

Bran felt terribly sorry for his sisters, but it was hardly his fault that the world was so determined to make girls suffer a great deal more than boys. He hadn't built the world. It had nothing to do with him.

Everything in this place was livid and lurid and living, and when he loved her and hurt her all at once she lived, too, higher and harder than she had thought she could. Yes, she thought, magic is like that, when it comes.

Acknowledging pain, disappointment and suffering is part of the healing process.

If the indebted Asian immigrant thinks they owe their life to America, the child thinks they owe their livelihood to their parents for their suffering. The indebted Asian American is therefore the ideal neoliberal subject. I accept that the burden of history is solely on my shoulders; that it's up to me to earn back reparations for the losses my parents incurred, and to do so, I must, without complaint, prove myself in the workforce.

If the indebted Asian immigrant thinks they owe their life to America, the child thinks they owe their livelihood to their parents for their suffering. The indebted Asian American is therefore the ideal neoliberal subject.

I don't think, therefore I am—I hurt, therefore I am. Therefore, my books are graded on a pain scale. If it's 2, maybe it's not worth telling my story. If it's 10, maybe my book will be a bestseller.

No matter our income, my family could not cough up the thorn embedded in our chests.

Almost daily, my mother demanded gratitude from me. Almost weekly, my mother said we moved here so I wouldn't have to suffer. Then she asked, "Why do you make yourself suffer?

Id Faciam What I hate I love. Ask the crucified hand that holds the nail that now is driven into itself, why.

I hate and I love. Wherefore do I so, peradventure thou askest. I know not, but I feel it to be thus and I suffer.

I hate and love. you ask, "how can this be?" god knows what wretchedness what loathsome misery

Women, on the other hand, were easy targets. Any time things started to go wrong in the Middle East, women suffered for it first. A fundamentalist revolution couldn't instantly fix a national economy, but it could order women into the veil. If

if her husband and children are suffering from her absence or her preoccupation with politics, then this is not Islam." It

All women's lives are like that, I told myself, as I climbed the stair that led to the better-appointed rooms of the king's house. Which of them ever is mistress of her own destiny? Highborn or peasant, it makes no difference. At least David hadn't had her flogged or killed, as another king might have done. But now that I had heard the tale of her life in her own words, my heart ached for her.

What did they want from him, these people? The girl's face was scrunched up like she had some kind of ague. Anyone think she was the one been sold away from her home and kin.

Mental cruelty, nondisfiguring physical abuse or just plain unhappiness are rarely considered grounds on which a woman can seek divorce.

Later, when he was able to grasp it between shaking hands and pour a trickle into his mouth, the pain of swallowing made him pass out again. In his dreams, he was once again bound on the sloping ladder, the water cascading into his mouth, his own involuntary swallowing pulling the narrow length of linen farther and farther into his gut.

Unhappy people do the oddest, most terrible things, just trying to keep despair at bay. All you have to do is accept them...go around them...take evasive action.

Being irretrievably damned had its advantages:

But I refuse to say. Because I love him, and you'd give anything, wouldn't you? You'd give anything for someone you love not to die alone and in scalding agony?

Like everything perfect, he set up a ferocious pain inside me -- a flickering, griping sort of pain, because nothing as marvelous as that is ever within reach, is it? Nothing as beautiful can ever last.

To see those babies with no food for three of four days, old people sitting in the hot sun, when you see these poor people, you cannot help but being compassionate or affected.