Quotes About Pain

Maar het hart kan nooit vergeten en wonden kunnen nooit echt helemaal genezen.

I realize then what hell is. Not a land of fire and torture in the center of the planet, but a land of fire and torture in the center of one's soul.

Celeste had haar verdriet nog geen plaats weten te geven. Het had haar overweldigd, haar overspoeld als een gruwelijke vloedgolf van pijn en verdriet waardoor een onneembare barrière was ontstaan, een slotgracht die haar insloot en die voor niemand te overbruggen was.

El amor es como una borrachera. Cuando uno tiene la botella al lado se siente feliz. Pero luego se acaba, uno se duerme y al otro día se despierta con dolor. Después uno promete no volver a tomar... ¿Todavía la quiere?

Porque las guerras no se ganan ni se pierden, solamente se sufren. Y todo el que ha estado en una guerra, así salga ileso, es un herido de guerra.

El dolor es egoísta. El que sufre se siente único y piensa que el mundo le debe algo

No estaba herida. Sólo gritaba de dolor. El fiscal se sentó entre una anciana mamacha que lloraba en quechua y un policía con un corte en la mano que goteaba sangre. Abril Rojo

La tercera edad no es una lucha: es una carnicería. Cada día trae un nuevo dolor y con él una nueva capitulación

When I first submerged my feet into frigid water, they hurt so badly I yanked them out again. I persisted, dunking them for longer and longer periods, until the cold finally blistered.

Just when you're getting the hang of life, it knocks your legs out from under you and stoops your back. It makes you ache and muddies your head...

It makes you ache and muddies your head and silently spreads cancer throughout your spouse.

can't be mine. Age is a terrible thief. Just when you're getting the hang of life, it knocks your legs out from under you and stoops your back. It makes you ache and muddies your head and silently spreads cancer throughout your spouse.

You know what they say about hope. It breeds eternal misery!

There are so many pieces to grief. Sad pieces, angry pieces, guilty pieces, pieces of regret, and pieces that are a certain kind of pain that doesn't even have a word.

Why do people...we...why do we drag around like life is so awful?' Why did they forget that there was so much to love? He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. 'I guess...because there's a lot that is awful. That's the struggle of getting old. To make sure you don't let what's hard or painful or whatever obscure the beauty.

You are beautiful, Lucy. Inside and out. And that hurts, too. It hurts more specifically. More personally.

Her door is cracked only a tiny bit, and her room is dark. Through the crack I can see her legs on the bed and hear her crying. Not like the big sobbing you do when something tragic and unexpected happens. It's the quiet kind of crying that can go for hours, when over and over again you try to stop, try to tell yourself it's going to be okay, but another part of yourself can't stop thinking about the thing that's breaking your heart.

I don't have to smile and pretend I'm fine even though inside I feel like I'm breaking into a thousand tiny fragments too small ever to be put together again.

Difficult. Everything is difficult at the moment. Sleeping is difficult because I keep having horrible dreams. Waking up is difficult because I can't sleep. Looking in the mirror is difficult because I hate the person I see.

But then I see his face. See the words he wrote. See them on my computer screen. See them etched into my brain. Feel them etched into my heart. Know them deep in my soul. Remembering. Don't want to remember. Don't want to live. Tear rolls down my cheek.

Sometimes a question can hurt more than an answer.

Maybe not, she said as we came to the car. But maybe that isn't so bad. You can't love anyone that way more than once in a lifetime. It's too hard and it hurts too much when it ends. The first boy is always the hardest to get over, Haven. It's just the way the world works.

I was worn out, broken: He had taken almost everything. But he'd been all I'd had, all this time. And when the police led him away, I pulled out of the hands of all these loved one, sobbing, screaming, everything hurting, to try and make him stay.

I wondered if he ever thought of me, and hated the pang I felt when I told myself he didn't.