Quotes About Pain

I wish I had realized that before. But it is true. And now I may hate you with my whole heart.

I cannot bring you a whole heart, sir, and I fear that the future will always be clouded by the experiences of the past.

Henry had never wanted a man, had never wanted caresses or tenderness. She had certainly never wanted the dependency of love. Her fall was, therefore, all the harder. She had no defense against the pain of an emotion that she had never experienced before and that she did not understand.

Better the dull pain of bitter memories, he was half inclined to think, than the raw pain of this new parting that was upon him. And there seemed to be nothing he could do to avert it.

that he really had suffered

She had loved him mindlessly, passionately, for the following five years, until he had told her that he was going away and never coming back. And even beyond that she had loved him, painfully and against her will, until she had finally forced herself to forget. Or to tell herself that she had forgotten.

Las mentiras solo acarreaban sufrimiento.

But it increased the pain tenfold to wonder if he did still retain some of his love for her. It seemed so cruel that they now lived close to each other, meeting with fair frequency, and both free, yet that they could never mean anything to each other.

The memory of his treachery would harden her against her own heart.

Rebecca was conscious of a dull ache inside, which she could not disguise.

There is a terrible pain,' she said softly, 'about being abandoned by someone who loves someone else more than you. A pain and an emptiness and a determination never again to give anyone that power.

In one way . . . living in a cocoon was preferable to stepping out into a larger, brighter, freer world. There was light and joy in this world—she seemed to have lived more intensely in the past week than she had done in all her life before. But there was the anticipation of pain too. The house was going to feel quite unbearably empty . . . . Her life was going to be unbearably empty. But then cocoons were not necessarily warm, comforting places either.

He should have stayed away. The memories were going to be very sweet, it was true. They were also going to be unbearable.

It is what we do with the pain, though, how we allow it to shape our character and actions and relationships that matters.

But it was an ordeal worse than any she had yet experienced in the days since she heard he was coming home. To see him and to hear him was bad enough. To touch him was unendurable—that slim yet surprisingly strong hand that had so often held hers in the past, so often touched and caressed her.

Christina. There was nothing else to say. Just her name and all the pain of its utterance.

Even when an individual tried to fake it, the eyes still echoed loss, love, fear, or hate.

The pain was on the surface, so it took all his will to reach upward. But maybe that's what God asked of man. To reach upward even when it's hard.

No one who does not live with constant pain can imagine the toll it takes. The way it grinds you down. The sheer damnable tedium of it.

I still have a headache powder saved up

What he experienced was not so much the beginning of love as a cessation of pain.

The hurts of childhood that must be avenged: so small and so huge.

She was starved hurting limbs.

It's funny how, even long after you've accepted the grief of losing someone you love and truly have gotten on with your life, every once in a while something comes up that plays gotcha, and for a moment or tow the car tissue seperates and the wound is raw again.