Quotes About Agony

Sometimes, in the course of my hopeless quest, I would pick up and dip into one of the ordinary books that lay strewn around the castle. Whenever I did, it seemed so insipid and insubstantial that I flew into a rage and hurled it at the wall after reading the first few sentences. I was spoilt for any other form of literature, and the mental torment I endured was comparable to the agony of unrequited love compounded by the withdrawal symptoms associated with a severe addiction.

paroxysms of weeping.

You can't imagine how he died. His toenails were ripped out. His bones had been pierced with a drill. There were marks from being beaten and burned. His nose was beaten so severely that it was flat.

Il migliore amico mi ha risposto che non sarebbe andato a trovare Tijo in ospedale; preferiva conservare di lui l'immagine di una "vitalità indistruttibile". Delicatezza disgustosa, che abbandona un uomo alla propria agonia. Odio gli amici in spirito. Mi piacciono solo gli amici in carne e ossa.

Witnessing the blind fury of this mob and seeing them kill before my eyes the Jews who refused to be converted (some out of faith, and others from that pride which can sometimes be perilous), I answered that I would rather be converted than killed, since, in spite of everything, the temporary agony of being is more valuable than the ultimate void of nothingness.

There sighs, lamentations and loud wailings resounded through the starless air, so that at first it made me weep; strange tongues, horrible language, words of pain, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and with these the sound of hands, made a tumult which is whirling through that air forever dark, as sand eddies in a whirlwind.

O Lord, don't rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your rage. Have compassion on me, Lord, for I am weak. Heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony. I am sick at heart. How long, O Lord, until you restore me? Return, O Lord, and rescue me. Save me because of your unfailing love. Psalm 6:1–4, NLT

With his heart falling into a black abyss, Thomas pulled the trigger.

The kind of noise that made your skin crawl and made you press your hands to your ears and pray it went away.

A twisted, pale figure writhing in agony, chest bare and hideous. Tight, rigid cords of sickly green veins webbed across the boy's body and limbs, like ropes under his skin. Purplish bruises covered the kid, red hives, bloody scratches. His bloodshot eyes bulged, darting back and forth.

El hecho de saber lo que podía ocurrir era agobiante, un manto asfixiante de miedo y sufrimiento que empezaba a cobrar vida. Casi deseaba que aquellos cabrones llegaran y acabaran con todo. La espera era insoportable. Los gemidos distantes de los laceradores se iban acercando a medida que la noche avanzaba, y cada minuto parecía durar más que el anterior.

Maybe when their minds go, they're not themselves anymore. Maybe the Newt we know is gone and he's not aware of what's happening to him. So really, he's not suffering." Minho almost looked offended by the notion. "Nice try, slinthead, but I don't believe it. I think he'll always be there just enough to be screaming on the inside, deranged and suffering every shuck second of it. Tormented like a dude buried alive.

Like gangsters yelling out roll call before they slaughtered a group of weeping traitors.

He heard a sickening thunk, his head twisting to the side just in time to see that Darnell had a five-inch-long dart sticking out of his shoulder, its thin metal shaft planted deep within the muscle. Blood trickled down from the wound. The boy made a strange grunt as he collapsed to the ground.

And as for the gods, I've never been satisfied by any of the answers that are given. If there really is a benevolent loving god, why is the world full of rape and torture? Why do we even have pain? I was taught pain is to let us know when our body is breaking down. Well, why couldn't we have a light? Like a dashboard light? If Chevrolet could come up with that, why couldn't God? Why is agony a good way to handle things?

I feel like, like pudding," Iggy groaned. "Pudding with nerve endings. Pudding in great pain.

And when it ends, only those places where you have known sorrow are kindly to you. If you revisit the scenes of your happiness, your heart must burst of its agony. And

The cure is in the house, not brought by other hands from distant places, but by its own, in agony and blood.

Alas, I am struck a deep mortal blow!

The other two waited respectfully while M. Bouc struggled in mental agony.

And you must remember that anyone who's mentally unhinged has a good deal of unsuspected strength.

His hands were shaking and his face was twitching. He looked a wreck of a man.

War is war and Hell is hell, and if you ask me, War is a lot worse.

What broke in a man when he could bring himself to kill another? What broke when he could bring himself to thrust down the knife into the warm flesh, to bring down the axe on the living head, to cleave down between the seeing eyes, to shoot the gun that would drive death into the beating heart?