Quotes About Pain

These were true things, Laura knew, but they were only part of the truth which was something less orderly than Kate made it sound. Some parts of the full, disorderly truth were lodged in Kate and Laura like splinters of corroding steel. Their feelings had grown around the sharp, wounding edges which didn't hurt anymore but were still there, fossils of pain laid down in the mixed-up strata of memory.

You don't adopt a single child, you adopt the pain of the world. It's a litmus test of your incapacity.

De ahí nacen las grietas, como un cristal que se resquebraja y sigue en pie. No se envejece día tras día, se envejece de golpe, de un modo amargo. Una descarga que nos fulmina, nos ensucia... Nos tiñe el rostro de amargura.

Animosity hung between them like a two-edged sword; neither of them could use it without first getting hurt herself.

What happiness is there which is not purchased with more or less of pain?

He's probably divorced. Mental cruelty.

The Little War? How can there be a little war? Are some deaths smaller than others, leaving mothers who weep a little less?

petrified morsels hacked out of living pain

The door through which he had glimpsed such wondrous light, he had walked through. He had encountered both beauty and pain. Now he understood that was how it would always be—no matter where he went in the world.

Oversensitivity is the silent cause of all suffering. —Anonymous

I have cuts and bruises that do not map a course.

I know that I was often tired or in pain, but you just work through it.

When it's in a book I don't think it'll hurt any more ...exist any more. One of the things writing does is wipe things out. Replace them.

I am dead. I have no desire for you. My body no longer wants the one who doesn't love.

During the earliest attacks of Fear and intense unreality, I sometimes uttered these unconscious and shocking words: 'I should prefer to escape into madness to avoid this consuming fear.' Alas, I did not know what I was saying. In my ignorance I believed that madness was a state of insensibility where there was neither pain nor suffering nor joy, but particularly, no responsibility. Never, for one instant, has I even imagined what 'to lose one's reason' actually meant.

El amor es un castigo. Somos castigados por no haber podido quedarnos solos.

Sometimes we pretend we don't care, because it hurts to admit we still do.

Maybe it only hurt so much because my body was in a solid state . . . I always tried to keep up appearances, and yet at the same time the thing I really wanted, the one thing I truly desired, was my liquefaction.

When our stoicism interferes with our humanity, we risk developing a wooden emotional life and an equally wooden personality. In contrast, the realization that our ability to work through pain makes us stronger than all of our efforts to exorcise it may in the long run alleviate its burden. It may enable us to take up our destiny as creatures whose very vulnerability renders us capable of inspired and truly awe-inspiring love.

Maybe we're brokenhearted, but why isn't it rational to have a broken heart? It is utter shit out there, the things you can't control. The world is full of wrongs, and mess and distress and horror. Who can really be blamed for wanting to dig their way down and live in a hole, or disappear into a cave and never be around humans again? If all people do is hurt each other?

Grendel hurt, and so he hunted.

I'm this thing that emerged from it, some kind of miserable Phoenix.

I'm not depressed. I'm fucked up. I have been since I can remember. There's not a version of my life that isn't fucked up.

The Devil had granted my wish to watch him sleep, but granted it in his usual cruel fashion, making a pain of a pleasure. Yet pleasure there was. I still desired to watch over him, be his dragon against Botts.