Quotes About Pain

Ultrapassar a dor é a pior crueldade

Hay algo dentro de mí que duele. Ah, cómo duele y cómo grita pidiendo socorro. Pero faltan lágrimas en la máquina que soy. Soy un objeto sin destino.

My mystery is simple: I don't know how to be alive through pain. --That's right. --And don't you know how to be alive through pleasure? --I almost do. That's what I was trying to tell you.

Querida quem faz arte sofre como os outros só que tem um meio de expressão.

Crear de uno mismo un ser es muy serio. Estoy creándome. Y andar en la oscuridad completa en busca de nosotros mismos es lo que hacemos. Duele. Pero es el dolor del parto; nace algo que es. Se es.

E foi assim que no grande parque do colégio lentamente comecei a aprender a ser amada, suportando o sacrifício de não merecer, apenas para suavizar a dor de quem não ama. Não, esse foi somente um dos motivos. É que os outros fazem outras histórias. Em algumas foi de meu coração que outras garras cheias de duro amor arrancaram a flecha farpada, e sem nojo de meu grito.

Don't you remember you once told me: 'today's pain will be your joy tomorrow; there is nothing that escapes transfiguration.' Don't you remember? Maybe it wasn't exactly like that...

Give me your unknown hand, since life is hurting me and I don't know how to speak - reality is too delicate, only reality is delicate, my unreality and my imagination are heavier.

Vengo de lejos, de una fuerte ancestralidad. Yo, que vengo del dolor de vivir. Y ya no lo quiero.

Give me your anonymous hand, for life is giving me pain and I don't know how to go on talking - reality is too delicate, only reality is delicate, my unreality and my imagination are more substantial.

Remorse is nothing more than a foresight of the bodily pain to which some crime has exposed us.

Triste?ea persista, dar durerea aproape c? disp?ruse, ca ?i cum s-ar fi evaporat. Atinsese acel prag unde durerea care sfâ?ie nu mai e decât o melancolie plutitoare ce mai curând umbre?te decât r?ne?te.

Logic doesn't overcome pain.

porque la verdad que se nos niega duele hasta el último día.

Elena siempre fue de llorar poco, casi nada, pero desde que su cuerpo es de Ella, de esa puta enfermedad puta, ya ni siquiera es dueña de sus lágrimas.

lloro porque el lenguaje —como el camino que uno no elige de antemano— es una zona de riesgo que te puede hacer pasar por donde más duele.

La verdad que se nos niega duele hasta el último día

A dor, a dilaceração, a fuga, o partir-se em mil pedaços que nunca mais voltarão a juntar-se, o olhar distante, o abandono, o abandonar-se, as cicatrizes, só podem ser narradas na primeira pessoa.

Nobody notices, only you've known, you're not sick, not crazy, not angry, not sad-- It's just this, you're injured.

That's the bruise in the heart the ice in the heart was meant to ice.

Do not say I if it means so little, holds the little forming no one. You are not sick, you are injured-- you ache for the rest of your life.

That's the bruise the ice in the heart was meant to ice.

That time and that time and that time the outside blistered the inside of you, words outmanoeuvred years, had you in a chokehold, every part roughed up, the eyes dripping.

When the boys turned the corner was inflammation in the air already forming knuckles as they pummeled the body being kicked and beaten until knocked unconscious his right eye closed shut blood refusing to clot flowing from both ears were they hearing their own breathing their own ears allowing their blows to take custody of this body fallen against the hardness of the concrete floor leveled without give?