Quotes About Pain

When attention is focused, minor aches and pains have no chance to register in consciousness.

bliss, mean, wretched, and mingled with wormwood

moteris panaši ? kat?, kaip ir aistra panaši ? kat?. Jos leten?l?s minkštos, ta?iau slepia aštrius nagelius, negailestingai susmingan?ius iki širdies. Moteris iš ties? panaši ? kat?, nes katei taip pat malonu vilioti auk? ir nageliais suteikti jai skausmo, tas žaidimas jai niekada nepabosta. Vos aukai susmukus, kat? j? su?da ir tipena ieškoti naujos aukos.

Young souls use pain to learn how things are. Mature souls use pain to learn how else things might be. And old souls, , use pain to learn how else they might be.

Look to life's beauty for truth. And look to what hurts for its beauty.

You are not meant to bear that which you find unpleasant; you are meant to change it. That's why you feel it. Your every twitch of pain and malaise invites you to wake up, pushing you to seek grander truths that will reveal a bigger reality and a more magnificent you, ever closer to an awareness of your true place within reality creation—as a Creator.

does anybody know what love is, or what love can do, how it kills, and brings pain, I know its called "life"

You're lucky I took me a vow of non-violence, or you'd be suffering some pain right now.

Grace gets censored when we write these devilish decrees for our lives. Secret commandments get scrawled on personal tablets of shame, and we live life as if our stories belong on a discount rack rather than as valued, cherished children of God. We let a moment of pain cut us off from a lifetime of grace.

You can't have love in your life if you aren't willing to suffer for it

Thich Nhat Hanh writes that one of our biggest faults is to fail to celebrate not having a toothache. The idea goes something like this: We all know how painful and irritating it can be to have a toothache, and we all suffer when we do, but why is it we never take time to think how nice it is not to have a toothache?

Happy people have just as much pain as anyone else, in some cases more. It could even be argued that the happy feel pain more acutely than the unhappy, whose feelings are relatively numb. The real difference in happy people is that they're not trapped by their pain. Rather than settling inside a happy soul, pain moves through it as through a channel, and that channel is joy. Joy keeps pain moving.

I was trying to keep God's pain at arms length.

Tell me," she finally whispered, "is it fun for you to torture me? . . . I should really hate you. Ever since we have known each other, you have given me nothing but suffering . . ." Her voice trembled, she leaned toward me, and lowered her head onto my breast. "Perhaps," I thought, "this is exactly why you loved me: joys are forgotten, but sadness, never . . .

The grass grows over the graves, time overgrows the pain. The wind blew away the traces of those who had departed; time blows away the bloody pain and the memory of those who did not live to see their dear ones again—and will not live, for brief is human life, and not for long is any of us granted to tread the grass.

Happiness has a high body count.

for there is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes.

She grabbed his arm. "Let it be, son!" she cried. "That child ain't hurt!" "Not hurt! You look into her eyes and tell me she ain't hurt!

La vida duele. Cada movimiento que hago está equivocado y cada palabra mía es errónea. Y cada uno de esos errores se paga caro… Entre nosotros, allá, el futuro es como un insomnio infinito, y el hombre es como un caracol; deja su pasado baboso tras de sí como una huella transparente y carga el futuro sobre su espalda como una concha de caracol en la que se ovilla cada noche para pernoctar…

All her life, Sunja had heard this sentiment from other women, that they must suffer—suffer as a girl, suffer as a wife, suffer as a mother—die suffering. Go-saeng—the word made her sick.

the pain didn't go away, but its sharp edge had dulled and softened like sea glass.

After losing four of his children and his wife to cholera five years ago, Shin found that he could not speak much about loss. Everything a person said sounded glib and foolish.

She has loved him, and she could not bear the thought of him being gone form this life.

I try not to cry, because it doesn't seem to make any difference. And whenever I do, I shut my eyes to make it stop.