Quotes About Pain

There's nothing good... behind those tears.

My eyes were stinging, my body shaking, and my heart seemed to be just aching deep in my chest. (...) I should have let myself smash down the rocks. It would have hurt a whole lot less

I don't want to be in pain anymore. I want to be done, to be left unburdened and naked, to tear the hurt off my body like layers of clothes. At the end of the trail I stop and bend forward, hands on my knees, to catch my breath. I'm not healed, but for this moment, I'm better.

When people tell their stories again and again, turning them over and over, they're trying to make or find meaning in them. That meaning is something they have to discover for themselves. As painful as the process might be, there is no circumnavigating it, either with the most thoughtful ideas you can offer or with the most hackneyed clichés. The meaning a person finds will almost never be the same one you can come up with. It will always be richer, more nuanced, more surprising.

For a long time, I thought my own life experiences marked me as strange and cursed. But after hearing so many stories, I came to realize that I was like everyone else, and that while my experiences might be unique to me, the pain was quite ordinary, and I was not alone in it. That was more healing than anything else.

My head throbbed and my mouth tasted like incontinent parrots had roosted there overnight. I

Que extraño que un corazón roto pudiera latir aún

I still have a headache," said Charlotte, without looking up from the floor. "There, you see?" Aunt Glenda gave a venomous smile. "I have a headache too," said Mum. "But that doesn't mean I'm about to start traveling in time.

Odd that a broken heart can beat at all, come to think of it.

Astepta sa se potoleasca durerea , de care ea nu avea probabil sa scape definitiv niciodata .

Worry is a mean-faced dwarf who beats on your heart like a kettledrum.

It's always hard to lose somebody. It leaves a hole in you heart that never grows back.

It was a truth that invaded her, like a dark disease, a truth too painful to talk about. And I was beginning to wonder if all I was doing was making it worse.

Trust, faith,good, bad... none of it matters. All you ever do is what you have to do. Follow your disires, fulfill your needs, escape from pain. That's all there is to it.

Why couldn't I have a normal name? Keith Watson, Darren Jones — something like that. . . . Unless you've got an odd name yourself, you wouldn't know what it's like. You wouldn't understand. They say sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you. Oh, yeah? Well, whoever thought that one up was an idiot. An idiot with an ordinary name, probably. Words hurt .

Jenny dies in my arms. Goes to sleep, doesn't wake up. My tears taste of blood.

Conscience is what hurts when everything else feels good.

Sadistic serial killers feel their victims' pain in exactly the same way that you or I might feel it. They feel it cognitively and objectively. And they feel it emotionally and subjectively, too. But the difference between them and us is that they commute that pain to their own subjective pleasure.

Both ask you to look at the painful realities of life, to understand them, and to use this understanding as the foundation for developing peace, wisdom, faith, and compassion. Both systems culminate in an "awakening" or "enlightenment.

His) sadness grew; it became a rock inside him, pulling him down. He carried the sadness everywhere, morning, noon, and night. It hurt to breathe.

Anger is not the proper response to anger. When you see someone angry you are seeing their pain. Compassion is the proper response to anger.

There is a psychological theory that says human beings operate according to three natural motivations: 1. to obtain rewards and recognition 2. to avoid pain and danger 3. to get even

For those of you who have childhood memories with pain or loss in them, it probably doesn't take much to recall those grievances and grudges. But as we look at the power of confronting the truth about your past, I hope that you (...) can avoid the waste before the days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, and months turn into years. You can take control. You can avoid those wasted years. And it's never too late to start.

She helplessly watched as he pressed the switchblade against the second joint. He let out a grunt, and the knife sliced through her finger, cutting it off.