Quotes About Pain

no dejéis que el dolor de un pasado imperfecto obstaculice la gloria de un futuro maravilloso.

Pain is the doorway into deep. Know what I mean? And tragedy is nature's great purifier. It burns away the fakeness, fear and arrogance that is of the ego. Returns us to our brilliance and genius, if you have the courage to go into that which wounds you. Suffering yields many rewards, including empathy, originality, relatability and authenticity.

Potential unexpressed turns to pain.

Chris loved you, I said, and the truth of it was almost a physical pain. She wouldn't look at me. No he didn't. And he would have figured it out eventually. So would you? Then where would I have been? Not here.

He is strong and pain is worse to the strong, incapacity is worse.

This is my last worst pain, the bitter enlightenment that buys peace.

And even the aches and pains that had joined her as she got older--she'd liked them. They were reminders--the back, the knee, the achy wrists--they were even friends: Feel that now, Emer. You're alive.

Will it hurt? I ask. Getting your parts replaced? Freak doesn't answer for a while and then he says in his stern, smart voice, Sure it will hurt. But so what? Pain is just a state of mind. You can think your way out of anything, even pain. I'm pretty worried about the whole deal, and I go, But why do you want to be the first? Can't someone else be first? Isn't it dangerous? Life is dangerous, Freak says.

I came from a real tough neighborhood. Why, every time I shut the window I hurt somebody's fingers.

What a doctor I've got—he's really mixed up. Last week, he grabbed my knee and told me to cough. Then he hit me in the balls with a hammer.

There are only three sins - causing pain, causing fear, and causing anguish. The rest is window dressing.

Inside every sadist is a masochist, cringing to taste his own medicine.

Boxing is smoky halls and kidneys battered until they bleed.

jealousy is painful not least because it sees the object of love, once sacred, as now desecrated. One cure for the pain of desecration is the move towards total profanation: in other words, to wipe out all vestiges of sanctity from the once worshipped object, to make it merely a thing of the world, and not just a thing in the world, something that is nothing over and above the substitutes that can at any time replace it.

The carnage upon the chessboard of life, left wounded humans in its wake

Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be recreated – not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.

Literature is that which he can not read without pain, without choking on truth.

Suicide How would I know I don't suffer any more, if I'm dead?

I live in my suffering and that makes me happy. Anything that keeps me from living in my suffering is unbearable to me.

I ask for nothing but to live in my suffering.

Everything pains me. The merest trifle rouses a sense of abandonment. I'm impatient with other people, their will to live, their universe. Attracted by a decision to withdraw from everyone [no longer bearing the world of Y].

And, long after the amorous relation is allayed, I keep the habit of hallucinating the being I have loved: sometimes I am still in anxiety over a telephone call that is late, and no matter who is on the line, I imagine I recognize the voice I once loved: I am an amputee who still feels pain in his missing leg.

I limp along through my mourning.

The grim egoism (egotism) of mourning of suffering