Quotes About Suffering

It's tough when anyone is hurt, it's painful and awful.

Humans create terrible things. Why do they make things that only bring them pain? It's because they don't know what's comfortable anymore. So perhaps they don't know that they are in pain…

Even knowing all, being forbidden to tell. Even wanting to help, rescue is impossible. I know of no condition more painful than that.

Just because you're sad or weak doesn't give you the right to hurt others. But no matter how hard you try, as long as you're alive, you'll have to inconvenience someone. Maybe the act of living has nothing to do with dreams or ideals. Perhaps it's more a matter of how much trouble you cause for others ... and how you redeem yourself.

Humans create terrible things. Why do they make things that only bring them pain? It's because they don't know what's comfortable anymore. So perhaps they don't know they are in pain.

I'm sick of seeing people die!

We were children whose only sin was our very existence.

Haber nacido me ha estropeado la salud.

I've never been free in my whole life. Inside I've always chased myself. I've become intolerable to myself. I live in a lacerating duality. I'm seemingly free, but I'm a prisoner inside of me.

There is no such thing as originality. It has all been said before, suffered before. If a person knows that, is it any wonder love becomes mechanical and death just a scene to be shunned? There is no absolute knowledge to be gained from either. Just another ride on the merry-go-round, another blurred scene of faces smiling and faces grieved.

Have patience; the lovers will suffer lovers always suffer.

The pain, I can assure you, will be exquisite.

I was born alive. Isn't that punishment enough?

My feet are killing me. I knew somebody who had feet like that. They'd walk all over him. Archie Kashanian was his name. He used to wake up with footprints all over his chest, all over his face. It was the death of him, finally.

Hell was easy; romance was hard.

Pleasure was pain there, and vice versa. And he knew it well enough to call it home.

A monster lies in wait in me, A stew of wounds and misery, But fiercer still in life and limb, The me that lies in wait in him.

They knew a lot, the dead. How many times had she said to Harry they were the world's greatest untapped resource? It was true. All they'd seen, all they'd suffered, all they'd triumphed over—lost to a world in need of wisdom. And why? Because at a certain point in the evolution of the species a profound superstition was sewn into the human heart that the dead were to be considered sources of terror rather than enlightenment.

There was pain without hope of healing. There was life that refused to end, long after the mind had begged the body to cease. And worst, there were dreams come true.

That's not fair! Life's not fair, Kaspar. You know that. You had a slave for — how long? Twelve years. Did you treat him 'fairly'? No, of course not. You beat him when you were in a bad mood, because it made you feel better, and when you felt better you beat him some more.

Sin lágrimas, por favor. Es un desperdicio de buen sufrimiento.

Everywhere, in the wreckage around him, he found evidence to support the same bitter thesis: that he had encountered nothing in his life—no person, no state of mind or body—he wanted sufficiently to suffer even passing discomfort for.

I used to tell myself that," he said. "Day in, day out. Used to try and dream the agonies away. But you can't. Take it from me. You can't. They have to be endured.

And whatever she suffered, he will suffer so much worse, so much worse. However loudly she cried, and begged him to stop, her murderer will cry out more loudly.