Quotes About Pain

Because the truth sometimes hurts, I said. Yeah, he said. So do lies, though.

That first love. And the first one who breaks your heart. For me, they just happen to be the same person.

Everything hurt. I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek to the street, and waited. What for, I didn't know. To be rescued. Or found. But no one came. All I'd ever thought I wanted was to be left alone. Until I was.

Of course it hurts, she grumbled, tipping my head further back. Life sucks. Get over it

That was the hard thing about grief, and the grieving. They spoke another language, and the words we knew always fell short of what we wanted them to say.

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 ialways the hardest to get over, Haven. It's just the way the world works.

We were willing to do so much for the people we loved, even if it meant hurting ourselves. Maybe that, in the end, was what love- all kinds- was really about.

We didn't talk about our scars, the ones you could see and the ones you couldn't.

Sometimes really, really bad things happen to people, and there is no explanation and no reason whatsoever.

I didn't trot my pain out to show around. I kept it better hidden than anyone. I did.

Writing a novel is like childbirth: once you realize how awful it really is, you never want to do it again.

I reached up with my finger and traced the scar over my eyebrow, remembering when that was the greatest hurt I'd ever known.

Sometimes forgetting was just as bad as remembering.

I knew whatever I said right then she wouldn't hear; with that kind of pain, a deafness comes.

Sometimes love can be an ugly thing.

what isn't said can hurt the most.

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.

But I didn't hear her, couldn't, was already gone, turning and walking out the door with the food in my hands to the parking lot before I even knew what was happening. Over the years I had perfected removing myself from situations. It was kind of like automatic pilot; I just shut down and retreated, my brain clicking off before anything that hurt could sink in.

I was drowning in broad daylight and no one could tell.

People do not smile when they are in hell

She never got a chance to fall out of love, to do it properly, slowly and thoroughly, and the result was he was like a phantom limb. Gone but still there. And like a true phantom limb, the preponderance of feelings associated with him were painful.

She knew that what she was going through was nothing special, just garden-variety heartbreak, the sort of thing that poets and novelists had been writing about for hundreds of years, but she also knew, from those same books, that there were people who never recover form it, ones who go on through life beset by a dim and painful longing.

it was hard to be a mother when you had never been mothered yourself. Your children's needs remind you of your needs. Their pain reminds you of your pain. All of it reminds you of how bad it felt, how hard it was, how much you wanted and needed and didn't get. It's very hard.

There is hurt here that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry.