Quotes About Pain

Whatever thoughts are causing you pain, they are only thoughts. You can change a thought.

We exchange knowing nods, aware that this won't really end the pain, but killing monsters never does. It's just something you have to do when you see them for what they are.

understand guilt. I know pain. The only antidote I have is brutal honesty.

I understand guilt. I know pain. The only antidote I have is brutal honesty.

Fuck you. You think this is a scene in some indie drama you take my wife to in the Village, some pack of lies the guy at the Times said was so naturalistically performed. But in real life? We're bad actors. We're slobs who actually hurt. You don't feel it, you couldn't, but the pain you're causing us—causing my family—it's destroying our lives, what we have together. What we had.

I felt my hands quiver at the unexpected contact. I... wasn't used to being touched in a way that didn't involve violence, at least not in the last few years. It helped that it was Sera. I pictured when we'd held hands as children. It had been perfectly normal, even comforting, when we were little. I hadn't associated touching with pain back then.

I didn't like my hand exploding.

having a three foot horn sticking through his chest. Unacceptable.

I hurt like someone had decided to play the drums on my ribs with a mace, but I didn't think anything was actually broken. That might sound a little strange, given that this monster had both the mass and the general disposition of a siege engine, but I'd never actually managed to find anything that could break my bones.

When you start suppressing feelings at an early age, it hurts you down the road. Full expression of anger and pain is very important.

If you wake up feeling no pain, you know you're dead. (Russian expression)

I hit walls of past pleasure all the time, and for me past pleasure is much harder to process then past pain...for me the traumas of the past are mercifully far away. The pleasures of the past however, are tough...the worst of depression lies in a present moment that cannot escape the past it idolizes or deplores.

What gay culture is before it is anything else, before it is a culture of desire or a culture of subversion or a culture of pain, is a culture of friendship.

The maltreated child cries 'I hurt.' Unheard or unheeded, that cry becomes prophecy.

Hiro said after a moment. "It hurts." "No, it's fine. It will heal quickly." "Not your hand. The music." Angelica hesitated. Had she understood him? She said, "It does hurt. And it doesn't. Maybe like all beautiful things.

No one wants to suffer. But that is the fate of each. And some suffer more. Not necessarily of their own volition. It's not about to enduring the suffering. It's about how you endure it.

The blades were positioned at an angle–and as they entered his body, the arrow rotated and bored in like a screw, mutilating the tissue, cutting through blood vessels and shattering bone. Aplegatt lurched forward onto his horse's neck and slid to the ground, limp as a sack of wool. The sand on the road was hot, heated up so much by the sun that it was painful to the touch. The messenger didn't feel it. He died at once.

Why, Geralt? Ciri is normal. She has normal feelings, she accepts emotions naturally, takes them for what they really are. You, obviously, don't understand and are therefore surprised by them. It surprises and irritates you. The fact that someone can experience normal love, normal hatred, normal fear, pain and regret, normal joy and normal sadness.

Love,' Fringilla said slowly, 'is like renal colic. Until you have an attack, you can't even imagine what it's like. And when people tell you about it you don't believe them.

You'll pass through fire, which burns, but also purges. And you'll do it alone. For were someone to support you in this, help you, take on even a scrap of that baptism of fire, that pain, that penance, they would, by the same token, impoverish you. They would deprive you of part of the expiation you desire, which would be owed to them for their involvement.

Nessuno vuole soffrire. Eppure è il destino di ognuno. E alcuni soffrono più degli altri. Non necessariamente per scelta. La questione non sta nel sopportare il dolore. La questione sta nel come lo si sopporta

Love,' Fringilla said slowly, 'is like renal colic. Until you have an attack, you can't even imagine what it's like. And when people tell you about it you don't believe them.

Magic, like a spiked iron arrow, lodged in her. Wounded her deeply. Hurt. Hurt with the strange sort of pain oddly associated with bliss.

However, when it's time to get back in the saddle after resting, it's as though your arse were shouting, 'Help! Murder!