Quotes About Pain

The ablity to hurt someone is usually in direct proportion to how much that person cares about you.

She looked both hurt and broken. As if her spirit had received one too many mortal blows.

The worst part is the unknown. The pain of being alone, the loneliness, is familiar. You've dealt with that. You understand it. But loving someone, risking everything, is unknown. There's no way to know how bad it's going to be. You barely survive the pain of being alone, so how can you deal with anything worse? So you don't bother to try.

Needing something or someone meant being vulnerable. It meant the risk of not getting. The pain of not asking was a lot easier to stand than the pain of being refused or rejected.

Your mother can't hurt me. I have Fletcher and my girls and you. My life is perfect. Any cruelty she speaks comes from a place of pain and while sad, isn't my responsibility.

I'm not saying I don't have responsibility. I do. I'll take all of it. I'm saying we didn't want to hurt anyone." The smile faded. "Isn't that what criminals always say? So that doesn't work. I suppose I want you to know I'm sorry for the pain you and your family are going through. But I can't be sorry I love Blaine. He's a blessing, and at my age, you get pretty excited by blessings.

She hadn't surrendered to knowing she would be dealing with her disease for the rest of her life. No matter what, it would be there. If she needed surgery, she would have to be careful with painkillers. If she had another child, she should probably not get drugs during labor. For the rest of her life, every single day, she would be on guard. Just like every other alcoholic in recovery.

But there isn't healing, is there," she said. "I'm not going to get better. This isn't going away. There's no escape. I can't outrun it. I can never be normal.

I have life experience. Learn from my mistakes. Don't have regrets. They're a painful thing, and they never go away.

There was no quiet, delicate crying, only body-wrenching sobs that clawed at her soul and left her with nothing but a sense of emptiness that she was afraid would never go away.

Don't have regrets. They're a painful thing, and they never go away.

I can suffer alone, or I can hold on to God in my pain. I can be meek and trust Him to make something good out of it. Only Jesus can heal the wounds, only Jesus can fill up those dark places with light, with understanding. Only He can quench our thirst for hope.

Fear is worse than pain, I think. Pain is centralized, identifiable, and wanes as you wait. Fear is a heaviness you can't wriggle out from under. You must simply find the will to stand with it and start walking. Fear does not start to fade until you take the step that you think you can't.

When she'd heard the news on the phone it had torn a hole in her and she went immediately hard and did not cry. If she let herself feel, the part of her that was left would be riddled wigth holes and there'd be nothing left. She had not, since then, shed a tear. Her body shut down; to allow feeling would sink her

Love is a queer thing, it hurts but it gives so much more in return!

It is intolerable to have one's sufferings twinned with anybody else's.

It is a view of suffering, of the pain of others, that is rooted in religious thinking, which links pain to sacrifice, sacrifice to exaltation - a view that could not be more alien to a modern sensibility, which regards suffering as something that is a mistake or an accident or a crime. Something to be fixed. Something to be refused. Something that makes one feel powerless.

No we should be taken for granted when the subject is looking at other people's pain.

Son múltiples los usos para las incontables oportunidades que depara la vida moderna de mirar —con distancia, por el medio de la fotografía— el dolor de otras personas. Las fotografías de una atrocidad pueden producir reacciones opuestas. Una llamada a la paz. Un grito de venganza. O simplemente la confundida conciencia, repostada sin pausa de información fotográfica, de que suceden cosas terribles. Susan Sontag| Ante el dolor de los demás.

For the modern consciousness, the artist (replacing the saint) is the exemplary sufferer. And among artists, the writer, the man of words, is the person to whom we look to be able best to express his suffering.

In fact, there are many uses of the innumerable opportunities a modern life supplies for regarding - at a distance, through the medium of photography - other people's pain.

the war goes on—an ache in the bones, an ache in the gut, an ache in the heart.

She increases her burden of self-hatred, she behaves destructively with people she loves.

it is not love which we overvalue, but suffering—more precisely, the spiritual merits and benefits of suffering.