Quotes About Pain

Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones.

Trying to mentally bury strong loving feelings for someone who is no longer in your life and that you still truly love is like trying to hold a beach ball under water....just keeps surfacing.

I know they say that first love is the sweetest, but that first cut is the deepest.

The heart is the only broken instrument that works.

You want me to act like we've never kissed, you want to forget; pretend we've never met , and I've tried and I've tried, but I haven't yet... You walk by, and I fall to pieces.

To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering, one must not love. But then, one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be happy, one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness.

I conceive that pleasures are to be avoided if greater pains be the consequence, and pains to be coveted that will terminate in greater pleasures.

If pleasure was not followed by pain, who would forbear it?

Short lived pleasure is the parent of pain.

We all try to escape pain and death, while we seek what is pleasant.

It is within the experience of everyone that when pleasure and pain reach a certain intensity they are indistinguishable.

God whispers in our pleasures, but shouts in our pain.

How else but through a broken heart may Lord Christ enter in?

It is a curious sensation: the sort of pain that goes mercifully beyond our powers of feeling. When your heart is broken, your boats are burned: nothing matters any more. It is the end of happiness and the beginning of peace.

Seven out of ten people suffer from hemmorhoids. Does this mean that the other three enjoy it.

I think about you in every moment and every image of you hurts me horribly. I want to feel every thought, every whisper you say in the deep silence of the eternity of you soul. To be able to cry in me, beside you, beside me in you, to be able to understand why our hearts beat, why we live among moments and not among eternities as if it were different.

We don't believe in rheumatism and true love until after the first attack.

If we deny love that is given to us, if we refuse to give love because we fear pain or loss, then our lives will be empty, our loss greater.

Every day I live I am more convinced that the waste of life lies in the love we have not given, the powers we have not used, the selfish prudence that will risk nothing and which, shirking pain, misses happiness as well.

The pain of love is the pain of being alive. It is a perpetual wound.

For the memory of love is sweet, though the love itself were in vain. And what I have lost of pleasure, assuage what I find of pain.

Love brings pain, And Pain brings beauty.

The greater your capacity to love, the greater your capacity to feel the pain.

You say that love is nonsense....I tell you it is no such thing. For weeks and months it is a steady physical pain, an ache about the heart, never leaving one, by night or by day; a long strain on one's nerves like toothache or rheumatism, not intolerable at any one instant, but exhausting by its steady drain on the strength.