Quotes About Pain

Tragedy is ugly and tangled, stupid and confusing.

It makes it hard to be alive, some days. A lot of times I wish I were dead, I truly do, just to make the pain stop.

Every time Gat said these things, so casual and truthful, so oblivious—my veins opened. My wrists split. I bled down my palms. I went light-headed. I'd stagger from the table or collapse in quiet shameful agony, hoping no one in the family would notice. Especially not Mummy.

It's a tiny box, Mirren. Me and Mummy. Me and my pills. Me and my pain. I don't want to live there anymore.

Then he pulled out a handgun and shot me in the chest. I was standing on the lawn and I fell. The bullet hole opened wide and my heart rolled out of my rib cage and down into a flower bed. Blood gushed rhythmically from my open wound,

Scavenger birds peck at the oozing matter that leaks from my crushed skull.

Suffer. You could say it means endure, but that's not exactly right.

Do you understand, Cady? Silence is a protective coating over pain.

As if talking about something could make it better. As if wounds needed attention.

It'll just hurt a lot.

I just broke up with someone. I am an egg yolk of misery.

We have to forget a little bit before we can forgive; when we no longer experience the pain as fresh, the insult is easier to forgive.

Suffer. You could say it means to endure, but that's not exactly right

Here I stand frozen, when I deserve to burn.

F I suffer migraines I endure

Sessizlik, ac?n?n üzerindeki koruyucu bir z?rh gibidir.

It was important, she said; it was kind; it was best. Don't cause distress, she said. Don't remind people of a loss. "Do you understand, Cady? Silence is a protective coating over pain.

Bu dünya berbat bir yer, hepsi bu.

La tragedia no es glamurosa

Silence is a productive coating over pain." -We Were Liars

There is not a scrabble word for how bad I feel." -We Were Liars

Basically, it was like going to the dentist. Something unpleasant was happening around my mouth, someone else's face was too close to mine, and the best thing to do was to shut my eyes, breathe through my nose and think about something else.

Silence is a protective coating over pain." I understood, and I managed to erase Granny Tipper from conversation, the same way I had erased my father. Not happily, but thoroughly.

Migraines left my blood spreading across unfamiliar hotel sheets, dripping on the floors, oozing into carpets, soaking through leftover croissants and Italian lace cookies.