Quotes About Pain

Forgive me that I felt forsaken, That grief and angst were all I knew. Forgive me that I kept mistaking Too many other men for you.

Durasse per sempre il buio, nessuno mi riconoscerebbe per donna, inferno per me, male per gli altri.

She meant depressions, for da had had them: big, massive, scudding, whopping, black-cloud, infectious, crow, raven, jackdaw, coffin-upon-coffin, catacomb-upon-catacomb, skeletons-upon-skulls-upon-bones crawling along the ground to the grave type of depressions.

Giles kissed her again, hard and furious. As if he hated her. He'd been in love for years, yet he'd never realized love could be like this. Like someone struck him with a club over and over again. Like fire devouring him. Sweet and terrible. Painful and fierce.

This moment is in the tradition of protest poetry and art that goes back centuries. I hope that this pain will lead to beautiful works of arts."-Anna Deavere Smith

one does not remember one's own pain. It is the suffering of others that undoes us

People were crazy with pain and secrets.

Es ist Jahre her, da hatte das Leben für sie aufgegeben, als Charles auf schmerzhafte Weise bewusst wurde, wie schwer es ihm fiel, die Pläne für das Projekt zu lesen, das andere das Leben nannten.

Je peux pas faire reset. Je ne peux pas. Mon enfance, c'est un poison que j'ai dans le sang et y a que quand je serai morte que j'en souffrirai plus. Mon enfance, c'est moi, et comme mon enfance ne vaut rien, moi, derrière, j'ai beau essayer de la contrecarrer de toutes mes forces, je ne fais jamais le poids.

Un mundo en el que todo el mundo se suicida así: a fuego lento y arrastrando consigo a los más débiles.

On est souvent trompe en amour, souvent blesse et souvent malheureux, mais on aime. Et, quand on est sur le bord de sa tombe, on se retourne pour regarder en arriere et on se dit: J'ai souffert souvent, je me suis trompe quelquefois, mais j'ai aime. C'est moi que ai vecu, et non pas un etre factice cree par mon orgueil et mon ennui. Elle aime l'amour a la folie et c'est ca qui fait toute sa vulnerabilite. Et toute sa beaute, aussi.

M?s atst?j?m viens otru klusi, skumji un smagn?ji, nekad nerun?jot par n?kamo reizi. N?, tas bija neizturami. Un, jo vair?k es spurojos pret?, jo vair?k es vi?u m?l?ju, un, jo vair?k es vi?u m?l?ju, jo maz?k tam tic?ju. Es jutos apsteigts, bezsp?c?gs, ar sasiet?m rok?m. Nekust?gs, samierin?jies. -Samierin?jies ar ko? -Ar to, ka k?du dienu zaud?šu vi?u…

He was a mystery to her, and every time she tried to solve him it caused her a little more pain. But when she tired to give him up he pursued her in her thoughts, stronger each time.

Don't go looking for boys in the dark They will say pretty things then leave you with scars. Do go looking for boys in the park For that is where the true gentlemen are.

Lack of Faith" Yes, even when I don't believe— there is a place in me inaccessible to unbelief, a patch of wild grace, a stubborn preserve, impenetrable, pain untouched by the sleeping body, music that builds its nest in silence.

Where your pain is, there your heart lies also.

Where do I always find enough courage for one last hope? I am the enemy of this indestructible, pitiless hope which prolongs and intensifies all my pain. I would like to lay hold of hope and strangle it once and for all.

The thing which does surprise me is my own optimism. Surely I ought to recognize now that my number is up. Where do I always find enough courage for one more last hope? I am the enemy of this indestructible, pitiless hope which prolongs and intensifies all my pain. I would like to lay hold of hope and strangle it once and for all.

Jack had the power to make my heart fly. He also had the power to shoot it out of the sky. Because, let's not forget, love isn't just about the flying.

Grief is a private, internal thing. No one can say their pain is worse than yours because they don't know. So maybe it's not good to compare. Maybe it's better to talk to people who know you.

Here is one of the worst things about having someone you love die: It happens again every single morning.

We call them dumb animals, and so they are, for they cannot tell us how they feel, but they do not suffer less because they have no words.

Depression is such a crippling, debilitating illness.

Hard to hide a weapon after you've shot yourself in the head.