Quotes About Pain

It is even a common notion that duty is precisely what we do not like. If there is any doubt, the safe rule is to find out what will be pleasant, and do the opposite! It does often happen that duty asks for sacrifice and demands the hard thing rather than the easy one, but to make pain a test of duty is to turn the world topsy-turvy.

Like a fiend in a cloud, With howling woe, After night I do crowd, And with night will go; I turn my back to the east, From whence comforts have increased; For light doth seize my brain With frantic pain.

This sick strange darkness comes creeping on so haunting everytime And as I stared I counted the webs from all the spiders catching things and eating their insides Like indecision to call you And hear your voice of treason Will you come home and stop this pain tonight stop this pain tonight

Behind every beautiful thing, there's some kind of pain.

Behind every beautiful thing, there's some kind of pain.

Because I'm sick. Because there was so much sickness. Because I say "fuck the sickness." Because no pain, no gain. Because spare the rod and spoil the child. Because you always hurt the one you love.

There must be something to acupuncture–after all, you never see any sick porcupines.

The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for.

If she's amazing, she won't be easy. If she's easy, she won't be amazing. If she's worth it, you wont give up. If you give up, you're not worthy. ... Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for.

black welts.

We can argue about their intelligence (which we would likely define in human-centric terms anyway), their ability to understand human language, or even the extent to which they really understand and know the world around them, but there's no argument that can convincingly show that animals don't feel pain, and that they have no interest in avoiding that pain. If anything, animals are more sensitive to the world around them than we are, given their heightened sensory abilities.

Världen vaknar enligt tidszon, men inte min människa, aldrig igen. Det här gör för ont för att ta i med ord.

Which must be why Bondy the poet says that real poetry must hurt, as if you'd forgotten you wrapped a razor blade in your hadkerchief and you blow your nose, no book worth its salt is meant to put you to sleep, it's meant to make you jump out of bed in your underwear and run and beat the author's brains out

real poetry must hurt, as if you'd forgotten you wrapped a razor blade in your handkerchief and you blow your nose, no book worth its salt is meant to put you to sleep, it's meant to make you jump out of bed in your underwear and run and beat the author's brains out, [...]

a horror more intense than pain, and visited it upon them in the moment of truth.

E in questa infermeria militare che io guardavo, la cosa più strana erano quegli occhi umani, gli occhi di quei soldati feriti, come se quel dolore là al fronte, quel dolore che avevano fatto a loro, come se quel dolore facesse di loro degli uomini diversi.

I called it the Hotel in the Quarry, because something inside me had been broken and crushed and carted away.

Everything has its own torture chamber, but also its own paradise.

Someone pumps sentences into my brain, long-forgotten images from childhood; meaningless objects and conversations peel layers from my heart. I am again a river faun, paralyzed by longing for a river nymph. I walk through wolframic space, my mouth and nose threaded with wire, and whenever I deviate from my course, I feel a sharp pain in my jaws.

Hospital patients recovering from heart surgery have been found to need less pain medication when there are nature scenes at the foot of their beds; an image that includes water is even more effective than an image of an enclosed forest in reducing anxiety during the post-operative period.

Wailing, keening, trying to explain the unexplainable. Trying to release himself and anyone who will listen from the prison of a human experience that cannot explain grief.

Well, the heart that hurts is a heart that beats.

The pain and suffering of this world are only the images of gloom, and they are only real in the moment when the spark identifies itself with the shell of darkness. - Book of Consolation, 8.15

Dort, wo es wehtut, entsteht Hornhaut, auch auf der Seele.