Quotes About Pain

Grief obliterates the present, forcing you to relive the past and dread the future.

mi crollò in grembo, costringendomi a tenerlo tra le braccia mentre piangeva, squassato da spasmi e singhiozzi, come se fosse letteralmente straziato e squartato dal dolore, eppure in silenzio, senza un grido, senza un gemito, quasi che gli fosse stato insegnato a non attirare troppo l'attenzione sulla propria sofferenza. Se fai troppo rumore, vengono a cercarti per scoprire perché piangi.

She should have remembered that people have given everything they own, everything they are, to be taken care of, and to have their pain gone. It's the lure of cults: the promise of a good family; it's what people think love is, but love isn't absence of pain, it's a hand to hold while you're going through it.

If you love someone, truly love them, you should never cause them pain. Never fill their eyes with something so close to grief.

Some wounds cut us so deep that they stop us. Stop us from letting go, from growing up, from seeing the truth.

Edward's grief if you die will be a terrible thing. It will hurt him, a lot, and men like him never grieve alone. He will spread his grief all over us, not because we failed, but because it'll give him something to focus on so he doesn't have to feel the pain.

People talk of sorrow as if it is soft, a thing of water and tears. But true sorrow is not soft. True sorrow is a thing of fire, and rock. It burns your heart, crushes your soul under the weight of mountains. It destroys, and even if you keep breathing, keep going, you die.

I had been downright paranoid all afternoon, aware of everyone near me. By the time I went for the car, my neck and shoulders were knotted into one painful ache. The most frightening thing I'd seen all afternoon had been the prices on the designer clothing.

Sometimes the greatest wounds are the ones we try the hardest not to inflict.

the pain of that first lost was still raw. You could deal with it, endure it, but never escape it.

Because everything worth having hurts.

You fight so hard, so long, to cut someone out of your heart, but it's not always your heart that betrays you.

There is some comfort in killing that which has hurt you, but it is cold comfort. It'll destroy things inside of you that the original pain wouldn't have harmed. Sometimes it's not a question of whether a piece of your soul is going to go missing, only which piece it's going to be.

I'd have much rather gotten dragged into someone else's fight than face what was waiting for me. Other people's emotional pain, no matter how painful, is so much less painful than your own.

We are not made up only of our light and happiness but also of darkness and sorrow. To deny the darkness of yourself is to deny half of who you are, and when you love, truly love, you need to love the whole person not just the part that smiles and waves, but the part that thinks murderous thoughts and knows that pain is both pleasure and temptation, but still thinks puppies are really cute.

Whoever skinned them is an expert, Marks said. He knew how to keep them alive. No, Edward said. No matter how good you are at torture, you can't keep everybody alive. Even if you do exactly the same thing to each of them, some people die and some people live. You're not always sure why some make it, and some don't. His voice was very quiet, but it filled the hush of the room.

There are pains too deep for words, but there's touch to say what words can't.

And perhaps, because I liked you." His laughter was bitter, like broken glass.

love isn't absence of pain, it's a hand to hold while you're going through it.

I was still left with having to peel the tape off my arm, and the IV itself had to come out, mustn't forget that. "If you want it fast, I'll do it," Edward said. I nodded, and he ripped the tape off my arm along with the IV. "Ow!" He smiled. "Sissy." "Sociopath." Doctor

Love sucks. Sometimes it feels good. Sometimes it's just another way to bleed.

I didn't look back, and I didn't try to kiss him good-bye. I think if I'd tried to touch him, he 'd have hurt me. I don't mean struck me, but there are a thousand ways to hurt someone you love that have nothing to do with physical violence.

If what I felt had been an actual wound, I'd have been bleeding to death.

Grief isn't a neat series of stages. You can jump around in the stages, you can get stuck at one point or the other, and you even get to revisit stages you've already finished. Grief isn't a neat, orderly kind of thing. It's messy, and it sucks.