Quotes About Pain

There was a hole inside her, and it twisted.

You can't ever stop thinking something quick enough. Something that hurts always gets the knife in too fast for you to slam a lid on it and shove it away.

God, was I going to have another day of painful thoughts jumping me every time I relaxed? The obvious solution—to just not relax—was kind of sucking.

Why do you eat your own heart? Because, O King, it is bitter, and because it is my heart.

My head felt like it was going to crack down the middle, like some demented dwarf was driving glass pins through my brain.

Sympathy is charming, but it does not make up for pain.

Funny how when you have a purpose the misery goes and hides.

Adults hid their pain, their fears, their failure, but adolescents hid their happiness, as if to reveal it would risk its loss.

She looks embarrassed, sitting on that stool, to be who she is now. She seems pained by all the compliments Muriel's colleagues are giving her. Success rests more easily on men.

I hate Boston. Nothing but pain in Boston.

Gatan och husen med sina stora tomter blir alldeles suddiga. "Han bara sprängde mig i bitar. Jag vet inte ens var jag ska få tag i bultarna och skruvarna. Jag trodde alltid om det någon gång skulle bli så att jag inte höll tillbaka någonting utan blottade mitt hjärta ..." Resten lyckas jag bara få ur mig i form av ett kvidande. "Vilket jag gjorde. Jag gjorde det den här gången och det var ändå inte nog.

I forget to mention the heavy menstrual bleeding and the pain.

Tragedy is based on this sense that there's been a terrible mistake,isn't it?

The fonder you are of your ideals, the greater your heartbreaks.

If we have no friends, we have no pleasure; and if we have them, we are sure to lose them, and be doubly pained by the loss.

In this sad world of ours sorrow comes to all, and to the young it comes with bittered agony because it takes them unawares. The older have learned to expect it.

Every heart has its secret sorrows which the world knows not, and oftentimes we call a man cold, when he is only sad. —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Hyperion

Crimes like this baffle the mind. They break your heart. They'll tear you up inside if you let them.

But who can really remember pain? It's impossible, you don't remember it, you only fear it returning. These thoughts are like stitches - you see together a memory with them and the flesh heals over into a scar. The scar is the memory.

Pain itself, as a pure experience, is something different from the anxiety attached to it.

The people her own age had not ever recovered from the war. The older people are still in the pain of history. Some say it is over, the A'atsika way. It isn't, Ruth wanted to tell the world that she hangs by her strength. Alone. Don't be fooled. This is just America happening to us again. She would like to keep them from ruining themselves altogether.

Those who loved Ruth--so many--touched her hand, her shoulder, held her lightly, but no one could read the world inside other human bones. They could touch the skin and not feel the grief and pain it held only a skin's-width away.

Mi padre se me ha aparecido esta noche. Estaba envuelto en un manto de fuego. Y me preguntaba por qué lo había matado por segunda vez al quemar sus cartas.

Everybody's heart is like a cup. They stumble from place to place and person to person, trying to get them filled. They get cracked, those cups, and even broken. Some people throw them away, thinking that it will stop the pain. Poor fools. Nobody can fill a cup but Almighty God Himself. Nobody.