Quotes About Pain

On top of physical pain like a metaphysical pinprick, writing abounds.

pero la Maga sufría de verdad cuando regresaba a sus recuerdos y a todo lo que oscuramente necesitaba pensar y no podía pensar, entonces había que besarla profundamente

Los recuerdos son siempre un asco...

Como si se pudiese elegir en el amor, como si no fuera un rayo que te parte los huesos y te deja estaqueado en la mitad del patio.

Y si nos mordemos el dolor es dulce, y si nos ahogamos en un breve y terrible absorber simultáneo del aliento, esa instantánea muerte es bella.

Las amputaciones violentas son malas, después te duele el muñón toda la vida.

Oriunde s-ar afla, pletele-i inflacarate ca un turn ma ard din departare, ma distruge cu absenta ei.

hay que vivir combatiéndose, es la ley, la única manera que vale la pena pero duele

Como magullados, sensibles al tacto; en un momento nos dimos la mano y fue terrible.

Por qué me hacés sufrir, bobo? Ya sé que estás cansado, que no me querés más. Nunca me quisiste, era otra cosa, una manera de soñar. Andate, Horacio, no tenés por qué quedarte. A mí ya me ha pasado tantas veces...

Dolor paterno en fa sostenido, carcajada sarcástica en amarillo, violeta y negro.

Como si se pudiese elegir en el amor, como si no fuera un rayo que te parte los huesos y te deja estanqueado en la mitad del patio.

History is not just facts and events. History is also a pain in the heart and we repeat history until we are able to make another's pain in the heart our own.

History is not just facts and events. History is also a pain in the heart and we repeat history until we are able to make another's pain in the heart our own.

Some wounds go so deep that you don't even feel them until months, maybe years, later.

What would they do if I said I hurt so much I feel like I want to die? —Jeremy Richards

It's odd, but even when I am in pain I have a sexual urge. Perhaps especially when I am in pain I have a sexual urge. Or should I say that I am more attracted, more fascinated by women who cause me pain?

Having our hearts exposed is an extremely vulnerable position to be in. It can make us feel persecuted and alone. Why did this happen to me? we ask. It happened partly because we were fortunate enough to have loved someone. Without love there would be no grief.

Sometimes you have to do something unforgivable just to be able to go on living.

Sadness at being caught, at the incontrovertibe knowledge that she will never forgive you.

Clavo saca clavo. Nothing sacas nothing, you reply. No one will ever be like her.

I certainly couldn't have survived my childhood without books. All that deprivation and pain--abuse, broken home, a runaway sister, a brother with cancer--the books allowed me to withstand. They sustained me. I read still, prolifically, with great passion, but never like I read in those days: in those days it was life or death.

It would have broken my heart if it hadn't been so damn familiar. I guess I'd gotten numb to that sort of thing. I had heart-leather like walruses got blubber.

Then we fucked so that we could pretend that nothing hurtful had just happened.