Quotes About Pain

Sometimes I thought I would die from the pain of our separating, and the pain it caused my girls, but I did not die, and I am here, and so is William.

On the "hit-thumb theory" : "On his grandfather's roof as a child one summer, hammering tiles down hard, he'd discovered that if you hammered your thumb by mistake, there was a split second when you thought: Hey, this isn't so bad, considering how hard I was hit… And then—after that moment of false, bewildered, and grateful relief—came the crash and crush of real pain.

Do I understand that hurt my children feel? I think I do, though they might claim otherwise. But I think I know so well the pain we children clutch to our chests, how it lasts our whole lifetime, with longings so large you can't even weep. We hold it tight, we do, with each seizure of the beating heart: This is mine, this is mine, this is mine.

Long ago he'd assigned a private name to it. The hit-thumb theory. on his grandfather's rood as a child one summer, hammering tiles down hard, he'd discovered that if you hammered your thumb by mistake, there was a split second when you thought: Hey, this isn't so bad, considering how hard I was hit... And then—after that moment of false, bewildered, and grateful relief—came the crash and crush of real pain.

other. And because she had, ever since then, been weeping from a private faucet inside her, unable to keep

Living did not mean one joy piled upon another. It was merely the hope for less pain, hope played like a playing card upon another hope, a wish for kindnesses and mercies to emerge like kings and queens in an unexpected twist in the game. One could hold the cards oneself or not: they would land the same way, regardless. Tenderness did not enter into it, except in a damaged way.

What she felt, turning into the driveway, was a fury and pain so deep that she would never have believed a person could feel it and still remain alive.

I would sometimes sit in our small bedroom and weep with a kind of horrendous inner pain, and William would come to me and say, "Lucy, talk to me, what is it?" And I would just shake my head until he went away. What a really awful thing I had done. I had not thought of this until now. To deny my husband any chance of comforting me—oh, it was an unspeakably awful thing. And I had not known. This is the way of life: the many things we do not know until it is too late.

we drove I suddenly had a visceral memory of what a hideous thing marriage was for me at times those years

grief is a solitary matter.

But she no longer felt sadness about it, the pressure of sorrow that had overtaken her at the table, the longing for all the Burgess kids, and the sense of the irreplaceable familiarity of her old life-that had passed the way the cramping of a stomach muscle passes, and the absence of its pain was glorious.

At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.

At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.

If a few minutes of suffering could make me so angry, what would years of it do? Even a stone can be worn down with enough rain.

We can never flee the misery that is within us.

Epicurus even defined pleasure as the absence of pain: not exactly a formula for a life of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Still, the underlying principle of his philosophy—that the one thing all nature seeks to avoid is pain, and the one thing it seeks to gain is pleasure, and men should do the same—was only an extreme version of Aristotle's theory of knowledge based on our senses.

Feeling is the antithesis of pain...the more pain one feels, the less pain one suffers.

I am the shoemaker who sees only shoes in the world; being a therapist, I see only pain in humans. All scientists have to be careful of this because when we have a hammer, everything in the world looks like a nail.

El dolor que experimentamos cuando no nos sentimos amados es tan real, como el dolor corporal. Cuando las necesidades emocionales permanecen insatisfechas se convierten en sensaciones reales de un profundo malestar corporal, ansiedad, depresión, dolor de cabeza, de estómago, en fin, de un temor fuera de foco. La insatisfacción de las necesidades es una amenaza a la integridad del sistema; se transforma en dolor porque éste nos alerta de las amenazas que nos produce esa privación.

Na verloop van leven doen mensen pijn.

Mensen die denken dat je leed kunt delen met woorden hebben zelf nooit iets meegemaakt. Uit dingen die worden gezegd valt geen enkele troost te peuren. Het delen van stilte, dat is het enige waaraan ik behoefte heb.

She had burned through a fair sampling of manhood trying to find someone, not to make her "happy" - that wasn't the point - but to cauterize her relentlessly dripping wounds.

Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? - Through whose blood am I to wade ?

Unhappiness was my god.