Quotes About Pain

I didn't really want to live, so anything that was an investment in time made me angry... but also I just felt sad. When the hopelessness is hurting you, it's the fixtures and fittings that finish you off.

You broke me bodily. The heart ain't the half of it, And I'll never learn to laugh at it In my good natured way. In fact, I'm laughing less in general, But I learned a lot at my own funeral. And I knew you'd be the death of me, So I guess that's the price I pay.

When Things Close In It feels as though I make my own way through massive rock like a vein of ore alone, encased. I am so deep inside it I can't see the path or any distance: everything is close and everything closing in on me has turned to stone. Since I still don't know enough about pain, this terrible darkness makes me small, If it's you, though— press down hard on me, break in that I may know the weight of your hand and you, the fullness of my cry.

Among other things, Kathryn knew, grief was physically exhausting.

And she thought then how strange it was that disaster—the sort of disaster that drained the blood from your body and took the air out of your lungs and hit you again and again in the face—could be at times, such a thing of beauty.

Daba Hua Tha Jo Mere Seene Mein........ Tujhko Dekha To Dard Ubhra ....... Kisi Bhi Marham Se Bhar Na Paya Teri Judai Ka Zakham Gahra........... Seene Mein Pyar Machalta Hai ... Aakhon Se Dard Chhalakta Hai .... Saahil Ki Tarah Kaatein Mujhko Chahat Ki Har Lahar...

Jeeta Hu Magar Jeeta Bhi Nahi.......... Marta Hu Magar Marta Bhi Nahi........... Tere Gam ME Phanaa Hone Ke Liye..... Peeta Hoon Me Zahar...........

We all have demons that were trying to fight; mine just happens to be you.

People who were dying: their minds always raced past whatever was being said, and still the pain went faster, leapfrogging ahead.

He wanted to take his love back from her so badly. The old techniques didn't work anymore. In fact, they'd never worked. How do you stop loving someone? It was one of the world's more brutal mysteries. The more you tried, the less it worked.

When Fran had died and people had shared their own stories of grieving he'd wanted to hit them, to scream, I don't care if someone close to you died. Don't use my tragedy to wallow in your own. You cannot come close to knowing how I feel.

the unfinished grieving, the foul, flat country.

She could understand why some of the women inside loved those true-crime books. The ones with pictures of blank-faced killers staring out of the pages. There was something compulsive about the sadism. The sexual violence. She remembered again Jason's words, his hard laughter and his scorn at her tears. The books the women read were all about pain and humiliation.

the long call, the cry which always sounded like an inarticulate howl of pain.

He'd left the window down and now he could hear the surf on the beach and the cry of a herring gull, the sound naturalists named the long call, the cry which always sounded to him like an inarticulate howl of pain. These were the noises of home.

We have become the charnel house of the Western World.

Most people in the Western world grow up with the received wisdom that Mozart was a genius. But few people necessarily know why. More than anyone else, he captured this something which is the human condition, the fine line that we all constantly dance between joy and pain, between absolute happiness and absolute heartbreak.

'The Virginian' has a very important romantic story line that you don't find in a lot of Westerns... At the heart of the story is quite a bit of pain and a sense of loss.

I left football, and overnight, I couldn't walk. I wet the bed even though the bathroom was only three meters away. It was 4 A.M., and I knew if I stood, my ankle would kill me.

Far too often English players seem determined to keep running after getting a whack on the leg, even though the chance to get a shot in has gone.

'Whale Talk' is a tough book, but it is also a compassionate book about telling the truth and about redemption. I didn't draw the tough parts out of thin air; they are stories handed to me by people in pain.

Delusional pain hurts just as much as pain from actual trauma. So what if it's all in your head?

The thought of somebody pulling and cutting around my face gives me stomach ache. Plastic surgery would be so painful. What if it doesn't look good? What if they made a mistake? I couldn't do it.

There's a lot of people out here faking a smile on their face like they got it together but inside actually suffering from some sort of traumatic experience, a loss, depressed, fearful, envious or whatever the case may be, but I can feel it.