Quotes About Pain

I was mourning the old me. For the new me to emerge, the old me had to disappear, and killing her bit by bit hurt.

Her life was broken like a mirror and the shards kept cutting her fingers. She was desperate to forget that she was little

Fear is pain. It hurts. I sink into it and use it like a sharpening stone gliding against a sword. It makes me better, more aware. But I can't be scared for too long, or it will wear me out.

Mad shapeshifters ripped into monsters, their eyes crimson with rage. Witches howled, loosing spells and arrows. The air steamed with blood. The clamor of swords, the pain-laced cries of the injured, the screams of shapeshifters, and groans of the dying melded together into an unbearable cacophony. Above it all the merciless sun blazed, bright enough to blister the skin. This was hell and I was it's fury.

Put it away. I could do it. I was strong enough. I had Voron to thank for it. I pulled the magic back. All the anger, all the pain, I collapsed it on itself and stuffed it away. It hurt. I took my hand out of Evdokia's fingers and picked up my teacup. Lukewarm tea touched my lips. "It's cold. I think I need a refill." Evdokia looked at me for a long moment. That's right. Barely human, you got it. I had a chance when I was five. Now it was too late.

People can share in the joke. Nobody can share in your anguish.

You've avoided the answer because it's painful to contemplate.

didn't matter how powerful you were. Life always found ways to stab you and twist the knife in the wound. Nobody was immune.

Taking a life always hurt. It never went away, no matter how justified the kill was. It still cost you a piece of your soul and it hurt when that piece died.

It was a lie. A betrayal so deep, it cracked something vital inside me and now I was full of rage.

Believe me: if you are told that some experience is going to hurt, it will hurt. Much of pain is in the mind, and when a woman absorbs the idea that the act of giving birth is excruciatingly painful—when she gets this information from her mother, her sisters, her married friends, and her physician—that woman has been mentally prepared to feel great agony.

The pain of labor and birth has an entirely different message. It says: "Relax your pelvic muscles. Let go. Surrender. Go with the flow. Don't fight this. It's bigger than you." This is far different from the message of "Protect yourself!" or "Run away!" that accompanies injury.

When the hurt is so big and so seemingly endless, the only thing that will ever get us through is love.

She was approaching the hardest moment to be faced when separated from the one you love, the moment when you finally get used to your pain, and then, you are only half alive, because that pain meant you were still fully alive. It was a bleeding, gasping kind of life.

Sie arbeiteten, lasen, gingen herum, aßen, organisierten Spiele, Darbietungen, aber nur ein Teil ihrer selbst handelte; der andere schlief einen schmerzhaften Schlaf und würde erst an dem gesegneten Tag (doch wann würde er kommen? Wann?) erwachen, an dem man ihnen sagte: «Jetzt ist es soweit, es ist vorbei».

In managing pain, I teach patients a 0-to-10 scale so they can rate and record pain at different times of day, with various activities, and in response to medications and other treatments. And I review with people common descriptors of different types of pain—dull, achy, sharp, stabbing, cramping, tearing or burning, shooting, tingling, and pins and needles—that provide information to doctors about possible causes and specific treatments.

Bereavement is a darkness impenetrable to the imagination of the unbereaved

I've been so unhappy for years, so unhappy . . . I don't understand how a human being can be so unhappy all the time and still be alive.

I have nobody in the world. I'll kill myself. That's best. Everyone will say, It's for the best that she killed herself, she's better off dead . . . I hate myself so much I could spend hours and hours just screaming with hatred and with the pain of it, oh the pain of it . . .

I felt a deep grief that crouched and stayed still as if it was afraid to move.

People have disappointed me and deceived me and let me down.

There are mysterious agencies of the human mind which, like roving gases, travel the world, causing pain and mutilation, without their owners having any full awareness, or even any awareness at all, of the strength and the whereabouts of these exhalations... So it is that we can be terrors to each other, and people in lonely rooms suffer humiliation and even damage because of others in whose consciousness perhaps they scarcely figure at all.

Oh my life is so awful, it's just so awful to be me, you don't know what it's like waking every morning and finding the whole horror of being yourself still there.

I'm made for misery, misery, misery , I'm made to be destroyed !