Quotes About Pain

M?su nol?d?t? atmi?a ir siets. T? grib izdz?vot. Un izdz?vot var tikai aizmirstot.

Wenn man so viele Tote gesehen hat, kann man so viel Schmerz um einen einzigen nicht mehr recht begreifen.

Wie sinnlos ist alles, was je geschrieben, getan, gedacht wurde, wenn so etwas möglich ist! Es muß alles gelogen und belanglos sein, wenn die Kultur von Jahrtausenden nicht einmal verhindern konnte, daß diese Ströme von Blut vergossen wurden, daß diese Kerker der Qualen zu Hunderttausenden existieren. Erst das Lazarett zeigt, was Krieg ist.

Kartais žmogus netenki dr?sos, - tar? Nataša. - O kitais kartais pamanai, kad prie nusivylim? galima priprasti. Bet taip n?ra. Kiekvien? kart? jie vis labiau skaudina. Jie taip skaudina, kad žmog? pagauna baim?. Atrodo, kad kiekvien? kart? atsiranda vis didesni nudegimai. Ir kiekvien? kart? jie vis l??iau gyja.

How senseless is everything that can ever be written, done, or thought, when such things are possible. It must be all lies and of no account when the culture of a thousand years could not prevent this stream of blood being poured out, these torture-chambers in their hundreds of thousands. A hospital alone shows what war is. I

And we stand still again, and suddenly we feel that everything out there in front of us, that absolute hell, that ragged patch of shell-holes, is still there inside us.

Memory is a deadly disease for a refugee; it's his cancer of the soul.

The youngster will hardly survive the carrying, and at the most he will only last a few days. What he has gone through so far is nothing to what he's in for till he dies. Now he is numb and feels nothing. In an hour he will become one screaming bundle of intolerable pain. Every day that he can live will be a howling torture. And to whom does it matter whether he has them or not—— I nod. "Yes, Kat, we ought to put him out of his misery.

If we could only see the animals we should be able to endure it better. Müller has a pair of glasses. We see a dark group, bearers with stretchers, and larger black clumps moving about. Those are the wounded horses. But not all of them. Some gallop away in the distance, fall down, and then run on farther. The belly of one is ripped open, the guts trail out. He becomes tangled in them and falls, then he stands up again.

GryzÄ™ poduszki, zaciskam pi??ci na ?elaznych prÄ™tach Å'ó?ka. Nie powinienem byÅ' tu przyje?d?a?. Tam byÅ'em zobojÄ™tniaÅ'y i czÄ™sto pozbawiony nadziei. Nigdy ju? nie wrócÄ™ do tego stanu. ByÅ'em ?oÅ'nierzem, a teraz jestem niczym wiÄ™cej, jak bólem z powodu siebie, z powodu matki, z powodu wszystkiego, co jest tak beznadziejne i bez koÅ"ca. Nie powinienem byÅ' jecha? na urlop.

Jestem m?ody, mam dwadzie?cia lat; ale z ?ycia nie znam nic poza rozpacz?, ?mierci?, trwog? i spojeniem w jeden ?a?cuch najniedorzeczniejszej p?asko?ci z ca?? otch?ani? cierpienia.

Istina je povre?enom ose?anju uvek surova i skoro nepodnošljiva.

words, words, but they hold the horror of the world.

The war has ruined us for everything.

The cries continued, it is not men, they could not cry so terribly. 'Wounded horses', says Kat. It is is unendurable, it is the moaning of the world, it is the martyred creation, wild with anguish, filled with terror and groaning.

And this is only one hospital, one single station; there are hundreds of thousands in Germany, hundreds of thousands in France, hundreds of thousands in Russia. How senseless is everything that can ever be written, done, or thought, when such things are possible. It must be all lies and of no account when the culture of a thousand years could not prevent this stream of blood being poured out, these torture-chambers in their hundreds of thousands. A hospital alone shows what war is. I

Viss, ko cilv?ks p?rdz?vojis, k??st par d?ku. Pret?ga padar?šana! Un, jo briesm?g?ks kaut kas bijis, jo d?kain?ks tas k??st atmi??s.

It's unendurable. It is the moaning of the world, it is the martyred creation, wild with anguish, filled with terror, and groaning.

I have never heard a horse scream and I can hardly believe it [...] The belly of one of the horses has been ripped open and its guts are trailing out. It gets its feet caught up in them and falls, but it gets to its feet again.

there'll be a few problems with Hans Kramer's body on Judgement Day when they try to resurrect what was left after the shell hit him.

Sve je krivo što govorim, postaje krivo dok govorim. Re?i su lažne i sentimentalne i ne izri?u pravi smisao i pretvaraju se u noževe, a ja te ne želim povrediti, ali svaka re? mora biti povreda ako ho?u da sam iskrena. A sve i kada verujem da sam iskrena, ja to ipak nisam.

We find one man who has held the artery of his arm in his teeth for two hours in order not to bleed to death.

A man cannot realize that above such shattered bodies there are still human faces in which life goes its daily round. And this is only one hospital, one single station; there are hundreds of thousands in Germany, hundreds of thousands in France, hundreds of thousands in Russia. How senseless is everything that can ever be written, done, or thought, when such things are possible.

I know nothing about them except that they are prisoners-of-war, and that is precisely what shakes me. Their lives are anonymous and blameless; if I knew more about them, what they are called, how they live, what their hopes and fears are, then my feelings might have a focus and could turn into sympathy. But at the moment all I sense in them is the pain of the dumb animal, the fearful melancholy of life and the pitilessness of men. - Paul Buemer