Quotes About Pain

I suffered like this ever since I was born. I was ignored by everyone, forgotten, told I was not needed... I lived like the bugs underneath a rock... Know! Know my pain!

I love you more than anything else in this world. That's why your words were like a knife stabbing me in the heart. That's why you have to die, too.

Murder cases are like cancer cells. Once they get their hooks into you, the pain and misery just keep on spreading. Whether the killer gets caught or the investigation is brought to a successful conclusion doesn't make any difference; it's almost impossible to stop the advance of the disease.

Until the Second Coming, sin will remain a part of earthly existence. And as long as there is sin, there will be suffering and pain. But suffering by persecution is not a sine qua non of the church. If it is, there are few if any true churches in North America today.

We are, all of us, crippled and twisted. Most of us strive desperately to keep our grotesqueries out of sight and mind. Our suffering is transformed by an alchemy of the soul into addiction, ulcers, strokes, hatred, even war.

Some people hurt so much they can't take what they need, even when someone wants to give it to them. (106)

The roots of any evil deed can be traced to the perpetrator's refusal to experience pain.

God is not attracted to mountaintops or church steeples. God is drawn to suffering, and the dark places it surfaces, which is why sharing pain freely feels very much like love, and may be the same thing. (207)

There's no original evil left in the world. Everyone's just recycling pain. (257)

Everyone - rich or poor, black or white, educated or not - is in emotional turmoil, in some sort of pain. (51)

Like most of the connections that explain the pain in our hearts, he couldn't bring it to mind. He couldn't see the truth because it was too big and it was right in front of him.

Let yourself feel the pain you've been avoiding, and you will become powerful in equal measure.

the bumping hurts more than the cutting. The cutting doesn't prevent you from walking.

He'd been hit by a car, knocked off his bike. At the funeral the vicar had called it an "accident". But somehow the word wasn't enough. It wasn't big enough, powerful enough - didn't mean enough. He hadn't spilled a cup of tea, he hadn't tripped over his own feet. He'd had the life smashed out of him. It felt like there should be a whole new word invented just to describe it.

Three smiles that are worse than grief; the smile of snow melting, the smile of a leaping dog, and the smile of your wife to you after sleeping with another man.

Pain is the doorway to wisdom and to truth.

Then the image came back into his head. His wife Mary, pinned to the ceiling, blood pooling outward from her stomach, fire surrounding and consuming her.

Remembering. Forgetting. I'm not sure which is worse.

In fact, we often prefer predictable, obvious suffering to suffering that may or may not happen at any given time. And

The boy is loved. The loved one suffers. All loved ones suffer. Love is not enough to prevent this. Love is not enough. Love is enough. The thing that you wished for. Was this it?

And the lesson is that the scars of the deepest wounds don't show. We carry them inside.

If you fall in a cactus patch, you kin expect to pick stickers.

he would awake from those dreams with an overpowering sadness and the familiar knowledge that this deprivation could not be alleviated without the risk of further betrayal and the eventual certainty of absolute erasure. Both pains were too extreme to face again. Better, it seemed, just to let his soul die slowly, bit by lonely bit.

Because he knows you have to laugh at the things that hurt you just to keep yourself in balance, just to keep the world from running you plumb crazy. He knows there's a painful side; he knows my thumb smarts and his girlfriend has a bruised breast and the doctor is losing his glasses, but he won't let the pain blot out the humor no more'n he'll let the humor blot out the pain.