Quotes About Pain

How wonderful to be alive, he thought. But why does it always hurt?

We wince under little pains, but nature in us, through the excitement attendant upon them, braces us to endure with fortitude greater agonies.

Sorrow is never more sorrowful than when it jests at its own misery.

Pain? Yes, of course. Racing without pain is not racing. But the pleasure of being ahead outweighed the pain a million times over. To hell with the pain. What's six minutes of pain compared to the pain they're going to feel for the next six months or six decades. You never forget your wins and losses in this sport. YOU NEVER FORGET.

I understand pain. I've lived with pain my entire life. But pain is nothing compared to betrayal. And betrayal is nothing compared to knowing that the javelin in your back was rammed there by the one person in your life you actually trusted.

So much harm comes into this world when the wrong thing is said. But that's nothing compared to the pain from what goes unsaid.

Memories always sting, don't they? The good ones most of all.

She would never forget her beautiful little boy. Never. No matter what. Not for a second. That was what she realized. You don't move past something like that—you learn to live with it. No matter how much pain you are in. You don't fight that pain. You don't push it away. You embrace it and let it become a part of you. It's the only way. The only thing more painful than remembering Matthew was the idea she might actually forget him.

It's too hard for people to accept. The weak-minded invent invisible gods and gardens and reunions in paradise. Or some. like you, won't buy unto that nonsense, but it's still too painful to admit the truth. So you come up with this 'how can we know?' rationale.

Nastaviš živjeti svoj život, ali je nikada ne zaboraviš, kao ni onu no?, svoje osje?aje dok si je ljubio, miris njezine kose. Ona je uvijek s tobom. Razmišljaš o njoj. Možda ne svaki dan, možda ?ak ne ni svaki tjedan. Ali ona je tu. Svako malo prizoveš to sje?anje kada se osje?aš usamljeno, ali nisi siguran pruža li ti utjehu ili te boli. Pitaš se je li i s njome isto.

Mike took the stairs two at a time. He felt a small pang in his knee, an old injury from his hockey days. He'd had it operated on a few months ago by his friend, an orthopedic surgeon named David Gold. He told David that he didn't want to give up hockey and asked him if playing had caused the long-term damage. David gave him a prescription for Percocet and replied: "I don't get a lot of ex-chess players here—you tell me." He

you have to be ready for pain. One doesn't come without the other. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have to worry about losing you.

Im selben Moment Otto mir seine Faust in den Bauch. Luft strömte aus meiner Lunge. Ich klappte in der Hüfte wie ein Koffer zusammen.

The adrenaline rush began to taper off, allowing a nauseating level of pain to flow through his body. Eventually—Simon had no idea how much time had passed—Hayes and a tall white cop with the nametag WHITE hoisted him up and drag-walked him to a squad car. When he was in the backseat, White took the driver's side, Hayes the passenger. Hayes, who had his wallet in her hand, turned around and said, "So what happened, Mr. Greene?

She hurt more than herself.

Might be a cliché. Might not. Then again, to coin another cliché, we see what we want to see, especially when we are a desperate mother hoping to end a decade of pain. Tears

Silly thought, but there you go. Memories, you see, hurt. The good ones most of all.

It was while he was lost in that thought that Granite Man punched him deep in the stomach. The fist followed through to the point where it seemed the knuckles must have reached the fabric of the couch. Myron snapped closed at the waist. He dropped to the floor, struggled to regain a breath, suffocating from within. He lowered his head to his knees, consumed with one thought: air. He needed air. Susan

It was the type of bad that made you want to do anything to please— —oh God please— —make it stop. It made you think about picking up a gun and silencing the sounds, if you knew where you were, if you knew that you were so close to your bedside table where you kept a gun in that small safe . . . Maya

The weak-minded invent invisible gods and gardens and reunions in paradise. Or some, like you, won't buy into that nonsense, but it's still too painful to admit the truth. So you come up with this 'how can we know?' rational.

A beating hurts for a little while. The shame of cowardice never leaves.

The arm was the worst of it; it felt as though it'd been mangled by a tiger and then jammed into a blender set on pulverize. A blacksmith was mercilessly using her skull as an anvil. Her tongue and mouth had the dryness of both the Sahara and the worst hangover imaginable. Megan

tilted her head, like a dog hearing a strange sound. "Does pain happen if you don't remember it?" Kat

I'm explaining something to you. I didn't understand for a long time. But I do now. The sad songs are a safe hurt. It's a diversion. It's controlled. And maybe it helps you imagine that real pain will be like that. But it's not. Lucy knows that, of course. You can't prepare for real pain. You just have to let it rip you apart.