Quotes About Pain

But her heart was hurting her with its violence.

Where do they come from, these tears?

Ordinary consciousness simply becomes pain.

The easiest thing to think was that he was going to die. This was not exactly an intent to commit suicide, though he did consider suicide, it was rather a sense of the impossibility of surviving much longer, whatever he did, whatever he chose. He felt rent apart by an unremitting mental, felt as physical, strain. When he was alone he groaned aloud.

For years he had been incapable of tears.

For me, nothing can ever be well again.

A talent for oblivion is a talent for survival. I laid my head down and merciful pain-killing sleep covered me fathoms deep. Not to have been born is undoubtedly best, but sound sleep is second best.

It is particularly hard to overcome resentment caused by injustice. And I was so lonely. The bottomless bitter misery of childhood : how little even now it is understood. Probably no adult misery can be compared with a child's despair.

Misery and drink made him a sound sleeper.

They had become, year by year, month by month, mysterious to her, her love for them an extended pain, a web or field of force, of which she felt at times the almost breaking tension.

Little pictures out of hell.

He was conscious of his body as a heavy cold horrible container. He had the feeling, coming to him as the memory of a dream, of being a prisoner waiting to be tortured. The extremity of pain was yet to come. And even now he was denied to comfort of self-pitying misery and warm tears.

Life is horrible, horrible, horrible, said the philosopher.

Renton looks at her and sees her pain and anger. It cuts him up. It confuses him. Kelly has a great sense of humour. What's wrong with her? The knee–jerk thought: Wrong time of the' month is forming in his head when he looks about and picks up the intonations of the laughter around the bar. It's not funny laughter. This is lynch mob laughter. How was ah tae know, he thinks. How the fuck was ah tae know?

This internal sea. The problem is that this beautiful ocean carries with it loads ay poisonous flotsam and jetsam … that poison is diluted by the sea, but once the ocean rolls out, it leaves the shite behind, inside ma body. It takes as well as gives, it washes away ma endorphins, ma pain resistance centres; they take a long time tae come back.

It's a bad one, man. Ah sit thaire jist likes, stunned; feeling aw raw n hollowed oot fae the inside. It's like whin you've been knocked back by a bird ye fancy, no thit that's happened tae me for a long time bein wi Ali likes but, like ye've been intae a lassie for ages, n ye sort go, eh, awright, what aboot, likesay, you n me, likes, eh … n she goes: naw. No way. Fuck off.

If every cunt had a ride whin they hud a heidache, thir widnae be as much fuckin trouble in the world.

Does it? Get easier, I mean, he asks urgently. The cop shakes his heid. — Does it fuck; it gets bleedin worse. All that happens is that the expectations you have of life fall. You just get used to all the shit. Renton

Then she put it back in the bag and pulled out the bone-handled razor. Opened the blade. How light and lethal it felt in her hand. Allison rolled her sleeve up over her biceps and cut across the vein and artery. Warm blood splashed onto the tiled floor. Mum... It felt good, like the pain in her was leaking out with the blood, like a terrible pressure was being removed. It was soothing. She slid down the wall. Mum... But as she was there, things quickly changed; there was too much blood.

The disease which racked his body was a sweetheart compared to the more obscure one that possessed his sick mind.

No tears come, and it would be pointless, like trying to empty a reservoir of grief by drip feed. I'm being daft.

Can barely look in the mirror. I've been way too uncomfortable to try and shave and I've grown a thin, scraggy ginger beard which looks redder and thicker than it is, cause of the spots on my face. The yellowheads are repulsive enough, but it's two big boil-like fuckers on my cheek and forehead that cause the distress. They throb under the surface of my skin like a Peter Hook bassline, hurting my face every time I try to move it.

Il dolore è una cosa da concentrarcisi sopra.

Si tous les enculés de la terre niquaient quand ils ont la migraine, y aurait pas autant de problèmes.