Quotes About Pain

It was from that moment, when Phuong was violently taken from him, that the bloodshed truly began and his life entered into bloody suffering and failure. And he would understand true sacrifice: friends who would die to save others.

After years of being taught that the way to deal with painful emotions is to get rid of them, it can take a lot of reschooling to learn to sit with them instead, finding out from those who feel them what they have learned by sleeping in the wilderness that those who sleep in comfortable houses may never know.

As painful as it is, pain cannot be communicated except by approximation, which means that any description of pain requires imagination.

was unfathomable. But really, it wasn't. And that made it worse somehow.

I just meant this stuff with me is different . And I definitely wouldn't call it regular bullying." "So what would you call it, then?" I opened my mouth to answer. But I didn't have any words. Because all the words I could think of— bullying, teasing, flirting —seemed too simple, too small, to hold all the hurt I was feeling.

Pain is pain. You have a right to feel it.

smile. "It's growing old that's painful. That's when reality hits. You find yourself with special memories that have nowhere to go and dreams that will never be fulfilled, and it doesn't matter how whimsical or impossible those dreams were. While they were yours, they were lovely." She sighed. "At my age, there isn't much point left in dreaming. That's the painful part.

At last they reached Wild River. "This is it?" Bill gawked in dismay. Jordanna joined the men to stare at the dark bed of mossy rocks. "It is wild, isn't it?" she quipped, surprising herself with her own good humor when her shoulders, her back, her legs ached.

Anger was what came of hurt that had simmered too long.

there was no greater joy than having a child, no matter how much pain or how many problems they bring with them.

Empathy is really the opposite of spiritual meanness. It's the capacity to understand that every war is both won and lost. And that someone else's pain is as meaningful as your own.

By our Heavenly Father and only because of God, only because of God. We're like other couples. We do not get along perfectly we do not go without arguments and, as I call them, fights, and heartache and pain and hurting each other. But a marriage is three of us.

When you carry pain and do not release and let go of the past, your body will faithfully show you the results of your repressed feelings. Just as facing your fears is the best way to overcome them, you can also deal with your deepest feelings by acknowledging their existence.

I still hadn't cried. It wasn't that kind of pain yet. Mostly, it was just this total feeling of emptiness in my gut. Like a cannonball had been shot cleanly through my middle. And I swear to god, I actually remember reaching under my sweatshirt and touching my stomach to see if you could feel the hole from the outside.

Perhaps it's better to be unhappy than not to feel anything at all,' I said.

Nessun maggior dolore, Che ricordarsi del tempo felice Nella miseria.

Seems to me people are mean or evil because they're scared, mostly, or in pain, or afraid they're going to lose something.

It's as though we loved our past, but our past didn't love us. So we go on strike and pretend we don't care, as if to punish fate for being unkind. Fate never cares, of course, so we only hurt ourselves.

Bitterness isn't as authentic as it looks. Believe it or not, one of the reasons we choose to feel bitter is because it's easier than feeling pain. It makes us feel tough. Being bitter gives the illusion that you're fighting, that you're not taking defeat lying down. But bitterness is a log jam. It won't let you get moving.

It's different when the person you love dies. There's an awful finality to death. But it is final. The end. And there's the funeral, family gatherings, grieving, all of those necessary rituals. And they help, believe me. When the object of your love just disappears, there's no way to deal with the grief and pain.

His books distracted him for a while. They were like the aspirins you take when you've got a headache. They kill the pain for two hours and then it comes back.

T]he obverse of facile emotion in the 14th century was a general insensitivity to the spectacle of pain and death.

Margery Kempe was obviously an uncomfortable neighbor to have, like all those who cannot conceal the painfulness of life.

Depression and despair accompanied the physical symptoms, and before the end "death is seen seated on the face.