Quotes About Pain

Those are only rumors of suffering. Real suffering has a face and a smell. It lasts in the most intense form no matter what you drape over it. And it knows your name.

Divorce is the psychological equivalent of a triple coronary bypass.

he could see now that it was possible; that someone might be in so much pain they couldn't even hear what anyone else said, far less be comforted by it.

Nineteen years are as ages to you when you are nineteen. When you are nineteen, there is no experience to tell you that all things have an end. This aching pain has no end.

Great anguish lies in wait for those who long too greatly.

They say women forget the pain of childbirth. Well, they are in nature's hand. No hand took mine. I was a body of pain in an earth and sky of darkness. It will take death to make me forget.

Then the pain of loss leaped out on me, like a knife in the night when one has been on one's guard all day.

With a poignancy he had never felt during the half-stupefying agony on the beach, he was beset by a terrible consciousness of the world's ever-renewed, ever-varied, never-dying pain: children and animals without hope in the present moment's eternity; the prisoners of cruel men, the cruel terribly imprisoned in themselves...

For years the tears fell without touching the ground. On this night they hit the floor.

Death is always terrible—no one need be ashamed to fear it. How we bear it depends much upon our constitutions. I have seen some brave men, who have smiled at the cruelest amputation, die trembling like children; while others, whose lives have been spent in avoidance of the least danger or trouble, have drawn to their last painful breath like heroes, striking at their foe to the last, robbing him of his victory, and making their death a triumph.

How she craved pain, how it thrilled her, weeping tears of blood. Our Savior died for the sins of the world--that was the true meaning of passion.

Pain nourishes courage. You can't be brave if you've only had wonderful things happen to you.

Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.

By November, you wish you were dead. You want nothing more. Every day, every fucking day, you run up the steps of the house, breathing hard, swing open the cupboards, thinking: You pitiful little bitch. Fucking cow. Greedy pig. All day, your stomach pinches and spits up its bile. You sway when you walk. You begin to get cold again.

My bones are brittle, my heart weak and erratic, my esophagus and stomach riddled with ulcers, my reproductive system shot, my immune system useless... I'm not going to have a happy ending.

You begin to forget what it means to live. You forget things. You forget that you used to feel all right. You forget what it means to feel all right because you feel like shit all of the time, and you can´t remember what it was like before.

I began to feel like I was wearing a sign on my forehead that said FUCKED UP in big neon letters.

In truth, you like the pain. You like it because you believe you deserve it.

There was a time when I was unable to get out of bed because my body, its muscles eating themselves away, refused to sit up. There was a time when the lies rolled off my tongue with ease, when it was far more important to me to self-destruct than to admit I had a problem, let alone allow anyone to help.

But new love only lasts so long, and then you crash back into the real people you are, and from as high as we were, it's a very long fall, and we hit the ground with a thud.

It does not hit you until later. The fact that you were essentially dead does not register until you begin to come alive. Frostbite does not hurt until it starts to thaw. First it is numb. Then a shock of pain rips through the body. And then, every winter after, it aches.

I missed him so much that it felt like a physical pain in the area below my ribs. I opened my mouth to accommodate it. I put my hand to it. A hollow, aching, piercing place.

I write constantly, trying to avoid the dull pain of gradual loss, trying not to think about the fact that I am leaving soon.

She would revel in the pain and beauty of this service and in this film because she knew, more than anyone, that grief and joy are both points on the spectrum of love.