Quotes About Pain

When he came to, groggy from the painkillers and still in pain (oh the fucking injustice!),

that they cared for would not be hurt, it was nowhere to be found, and the wounds were as fresh and as red as they had been when both of them had been brand-new and had no sins in the world to stain them.

And…." Oh! Kelly's boy was crying. Crying so hard he couldn't breathe. Crying so hard he could barely talk! Kelly's arms were sprained at the shoulders, because two guys had held them behind him and he'd struggled, oh, he'd struggled so fucking hard. Carefully he raised his hand to cup Seth's cheek and saw the bruises, then felt his stomach go cold. "Seth? Seth… mijo. What did you do?

He jerked upright, moved his swollen ankle injudiciously, and let out a sound like Snoopy getting hit in the balls. "Alggghhh….

Spending those hours in the dark with only Glen's voice for company had taught Cash more than he ever thought possible about how to deal with pain, about how to keep your soul intact during fear—about what a human being could do with a little bit of confidence in the world around him.

God… God… don't you see, lubime? Don't you see at all? You are a hero. You're our hero. You're Benny's hero. You're a hero to every poor kid you've ever helped on the streets. You're my hero. You see weird and awkward? I see wonderful. I… I am damaged, God help me. I am damaged and bitchy and a pain in the ass, and you have

Three trips to rehab," John said at last. "The third time…." He closed his eyes and blocked it out. He couldn't do this, not now. "It was bad. I thought maybe I was the problem, right? 'Cause… 'cause I'd do anything for him. Anything. I'da stayed for another trip to rehab—I'da stayed for all

Some people got family, and those people I can get behind. But none of us—not you, or me, or hell, Kaden, who's the best man I know—can go out and change the fucking world without a lot of pain and suffering. So it's okay that's not how this started. What matters is that you ended it.

Because the songs that don't make the listener feel like barbed wire is ripping through their chest make them feel like someone's stitching up the wound with a rusty needle and a bottle of scotch for the pain. It's not always happy, but God, those songs make you feel.

have the Nazis killed?" she asked, voice dripping with venom. "My uncle's family, I assume," Nate told her, his blood running cold. He had

And then crumpled on a muffled shriek, because he'd hit a stud in a load-bearing wall and broken three bones in his wrist and hand.

I'll be on the couch, bleeding through a number two pencil.

He'd forgotten how big the place was, and he was so busy looking around, he misjudged the placement of the doorframe and hit himself painfully as he walked through.

There is no cure for hell," she said softly. "There's only showing it to other people so they can share the burden.

Crick had arrived and stumbled into the house, intent on rest and quiet before he killed himself to escape the pain.

Oh, damn the words he once threw like dandelions to the wind. Now when he needed them, they were buried under bandages and broken teeth.

What have I ever done to you…." There it went, two octaves, and he wrenched it back under his control. "What have I ever done to you that you would hurt me like that?

Suddenly Mackey knew—they'd both been hurt. The only thing that had put the hurt to an end for Grant had been the end itself. Mackey had been

BY THE time Stirling and the lead guard had rounded the final bend from the jungle to the plantation house clearing, two other guards had simply dropped where they stood, shit themselves, and rocked back and forth, whimpering in pain.

then let him go, losing himself in the Zen of pain control once more.

The other man leaned back his head and breathed carefully for a few minutes. John waited in respect. You had to respect pain, because pain didn't respect shit.

you've fallen for this man, so hard, so deep, it's like falling off a building and punching a hole through the tarmac to the hidden black caverns of trust, pain, and fear beneath.

Yes, it's hard to understand," Mikhail growled back. "You have this… this magnificent heart, and you just… try to throw it away. How could you do it?

Because the songs that don't make the listener feel like barbed wire is ripping through their chest make them feel like someone's stitching up the wound with a rusty needle and a bottle of scotch for the pain. It's