Quotes About Pain

The thing is, when you lose someone like we have...it's like part of your heart is cut out. And you always worry about how much more you can afford to lose.

C. S. Lewis put it, "We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.

Pain was good. If I hurt, it meant I wasn't dead.

Sometimes the people closest to you betray you, and your home isn't a place you can be happy anymore.

Before this trip and all that she'd learned about the three of them, she would have gotten angry or changed the subject. Anything to obscure the pain she felt. Now she knew better. You carried your pain with you in life. There was no outrunning it.

Jude remembered this pain. Every woman had felt some version of it: the end of first love. It was when you learned, for good and always, that love could be impermanent.

Goddamn, sometimes it hurt to be free.

There was a pain that came with constant disapproval; a sense of having lost something unnamed, unknown. Elsa had survived it by being quiet, by not demanding or seeking attention, by accepting that she was loved, but unliked.

Girls like you can't understand," Julia said, and it was true. Ellie had been popular. She didn't know that some hurts were like a once-broken bone. In the right weather, they could ache for a lifetime.

No mother. Two small words, and yet within them lay a bottomless well of pain and loss, a ceaseless mourning for touches that were never received and words of wisdom that were never spoken. No single word was big enough to adequately describe the loss of your mother.

She didn't know that some hurts were like a once-broken bone. In the right weather, they could ache for a lifetime.

I would not love him again. Not if I had known how it would feel to live with a broken heart.

She knew this pain would fade again; like a sunburn, it would heal itself and leave her slightly more protected from the glare.

Alice started to cry. It came with no sound, no shuddering, no childlike hysterics, just a soul-deep release that turned into moisture and dripped down her puffy pink cheeks. She touched her tears, frowning. Then she looked up at Julia and whimpered two words before she fell asleep. 'Real hurts.'

She is like a child picking at a scab, unable to stop herself even though she knows it will hurt.

He was afraid that the secrets she'd kept would always be here, inside him, an ugly malignant thing lodged near enough to his heart to upset its rhythm, and though it could be removed, cut out, there would always be scars; bits and pieces of it would remain in his blood, making it wrong somehow, so that if he accidentally sliced his skin open, his blood would--for one heartbeat--flow as black as India ink before it remembered that it should be red.

This fear was unbearable. It unwrapped who she was, as neatly as he'd unwound her bandage, leaving too much pain and ugliness exposed. Nerve endings; he'd said they were the problem [causing phantom pain in the amputated limb]." Things that cut off, that ended abruptly or died--like parents and marriages--kept hurting forever.

Tragedy was like that, a razor that sliced through time, severing the now from the before, incising the what-might-have-been from reality as cleanly as any surgeon's blade.

She was crying for it all at last--for the pain and loss and fear and anger, for the war and what it had done to her and to all of them, for the knowledge of evil she could never shake, for the horror of where she'd been and what she'd done to survive.

If he loved you guys, he wouldn't hurt you." He made it sound so simple, as if it were a mathematical equation. But the connection between pain and love wasn't linear. It was a web.

La neurosis es siempre un sustituto de los sufrimientos verdaderos...

Neurosis is always a substitute for legitimate suffering.

Nevroz, anlam?n? arayan ruhun ac? çekmesidir.

Technically, the weight of pain is the weight of shadow.