Quotes About Pain

Living was a dangerous past-time, and often quite painful—but there was also such joy in living, such beauty, things that one would otherwise never see, never experience, never know. The risk of pain and loss was a part of living.

I stretched out my hand, adrenaline and pain giving me plenty of fuel for the magic, and called, 'Ventas servitas!' Wind leapt out in a sudden spurt, seizing the Unraveling and tearing it from Aurora's fingers, sending it spinning through the air toward me. I caught it, stuck my tongue out at Aurora, yelled, 'Meep, meep!' and ran like hell.

Body or mind, heart or soul, we're all human, and we're supposed to feel pain. You cut yourself off from it at your own risk.

Monsters are born of pain, and grief, and loss, and anger. Your heart is full of them.- -And? And it makes you vulnerable.

Life is full of toil, sacrifice, and pain, and from the time we stop growing, we know that we've begun dying. We watch helplessly as year by year, our bodies age and fail, while our survival instincts compel us to keep on going-which means living with the terrifying knowledge that ultimately death is inescapable.

Bloody hell, he gasped. Harry. There's a *knife* in my leg. When did *that* happen? In the duel, I told him. Don't you remember? I thought you'd stepped on me and sprained my ankle, Ramirez replied. Then he blinked again. Bloody hell. There's a *knife* in my guts. He peered at them. And they match.

I took a big dose of Tylenol the original, since I didn't have my Tylenol 3 or its lesser-known, short-lived cousin, Tylenol Two: The Pain Strikes Back.

The pain we feel in life always grows. When we're little, little pains hurt us. When we get bigger, we learn to handle more and more pain and carry on regardless.

It hurts! bellowed Ramirez drunkenly, flinging a last pair of bolts at a fleeing ghoul. Ow! Ow, it hurts! It hurts to be this *good*!

The only people who never hurt are dead.

The words first. Damned near everything begins with words. I am, I breathed, and suddenly the ice was clear of my mouth. I am Harry... I panted, and the pain redoubled. And I laughed. As if some freak who never loved enough to know loss could tell me about pain.

Living was a dangerous past-time, and often quite painful—but there was also such joy in living, such beauty, things that one would otherwise never see, never experience, never know. The risk of pain and loss was a part of living. It made everything else mean more; beauty was more pure, more bright, pleasure more full and complete, laughter deeper, more satisfying—and contentment more perfect, more peaceful.

There was a flash, a tingling pain in my head, and then a lingering, dull ache. For some reason that didn't surprise me. You don't gain knowledge without a little pain.

Some things should hurt. Some things should leave you with scars. Some things should haunt your nightmares. Some things should be burned into memory. Because that was the only way to make sure that they would be fought. It was the only way to face them. It was the only way to cast down the future agents of death and havoc before they could bring things to this. The words never again mean more to some people than others.

A smile fought its way through her expression of pain for a moment, and she said, "Yeah, it really kind of was, wasn't it? Was that a Salamander?" "Pretty sure," I said. "They're so much bigger than in those Xanth books.

We all have our demons.

The Winter inside me was torment and agony—but at least when I was immersed in it, I couldn't feel.

Aaaaaaaagh!" I screamed, emerging from the wards and onto Murphy's front lawn, chock-full of new insight as to why ghosts are always moaning or wailing when they come popping out of somebody's wall or floor. Not much mystery there—it freaking hurts.

Life?" I suggested. She shrugged. "Desire. Loneliness. Joy. Pain." "Life," I said.

I've got blisters and muscle cramps in places not meant for the touch of anything but a beautiful woman, Max spat back sullenly. I've bitten my tongue so many times in the past three days that I whistle in musical chords when I exhale. And the smell isn't ever going to come out of my armor, I just know it.

It doesn't take much power to hurt someone, she said. It's far easier than healing the damage.

Some things should hurt. Some things should leave you with scars. Some things should haunt your nightmares. Some things should be burned into memory.

Scars - the graffiti of violence. - Harry Dresden

My own aches and bruises and cuts and wounds pained me, but it was an honest, stretchy pain, something that was healing.