Quotes About Pain

You add insult to injury. (Injuriae Addis Contumeliam)

It's like a lion at the door;And when the door begins to crack,It's like a stick across your back;And when your back begins to smart,It's like a penknife in your heart;And when your heart begins to bleed,You're dead, and dead, and dead, indeed.

A bride had been violated on that most sacred of nights. But what about ordinary women on ordinary nights? Or indecent women, perhaps, like sex workers? Or hijras? What happened when less-than-ordinary souls got violated? Why not create a furor then? Why let their pain slide away like rainwater into a gutter?

The simple idea, then, is that feelings of pain and feelings of pleasure, from degrees of well-being to malaise and sickness, would have been the catalysts for the processes of questioning, understanding, and problem solving that most profoundly distinguish human minds from the minds of other living species.

The proclamation of bruised feelings, the desperate plea for the correction of individual pain and suffering, the inchoate cry for the loss of a never-achieved sense of inner balance and happiness to which most humans aspire are not likely to diminish soon.4 It would be foolish to ask medicine alone to heal a sick culture, but it is just as foolish to ignore that aspect of human disease.

Man, driving through town tonight brought back a lot of memories," Marshall says, lowering his voice. "I've been through a lot of shit, man. If I sit and think back on it, it's really fucked up. I mean, all my life has been fucked up.

Suffering is a sign that you're out of touch with the truth. Suffering is given to you that you might open your eyes to the truth, that you might understand that there's falsehood somewhere, just as physical pain is given to you so you will understand that there is disease or illness somewhere.

Why can't healing happen as quickly as wounding?

Don't tell me how to grieve. Don't tell me ghosts fade away eventually, like they do in movies, waving goodbye with see-through hands. Lots of things fade away but ghosts like these don't, heartbreak like these doesn't.

Some griefs can never be put right.

She was crying now, quietly, inhaling so vehemently it was as if she were trying to suck the tears back into her eyes.

Nothing will be healed in this kitchen. Some griefs can never be put right.

In the days following, he can hardly manage to comb his hair or convince his fingers to button his coat. His mind plays tricks, too: he walks into a room and forgets why he's there. He stares at a superior and forgets what the man just said.

Expand your property, increase your wealth, enlarge your walls. And when each new treasure you drag inside your walls doesn't relieve your pain? Go get some more.

When they were first married and Albert went away on trips for work, Jutta would wake in the predawn hours and remember those first nights after Werner left for Schulpforta and feel all over again the searing pain of his absence.

she's hardly there: just morphine and glassy eyes and an odor that carries him back to Korea.

The heart heals but never completely.

even in the midst of grief the mind grapples with a hundred impressions: a pain below the heart, an odor on the breeze.

Men lie injured and dying between the old headstones: Macedonians, Albanians, Wallachians, Serbians, some in so much agony that they seem reduced to something less than human, as though pain were a leveling wave, a mortar troweled over everything that person once was.

You want to know? What it's like? To prop up the dam? To keep your fingers plugged in its cracks? To feel like every single breath that passes is another betrayal, another step farther away from what you were and where you were and who you were, another step deeper into the darkness

A broken heart doesn't care if you run from it or not. Either way you take it with you.

I learned patience, perseverance, and dedication. Now I really know myself, and I know my voice. It's a voice of pain and victory.

Why love if losing hurts so much? I have no answers anymore only the life I have lived. The pain now is part of the happiness then.

He didn't want to remember anymore. remembering only hurt him... everytime.