Quotes About Pain

You put me through hell. On purpose. Made me suffer. And there's no end in sight. I don't know what the fuck you're doing, ace, but this Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde shit ain't cutting it with me.

I wrap my mind around pain till it smothers in its own scream. (101)

I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of the throat and I'd cry for a week.

But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get.

Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call.

I thought about things stolen from me. I thought about the thieves I had known.

A body forgets, but the heart remembers.

Recollection of fear can be stronger than the original fear itself. Similarly, bliss is sometimes more vivid when recollected. How else do you explain longing? Longing for what has already passed. That's the real pain.

She wanted to say something that would let him know how much he'd hurt her. Something that would hurt him. But words failed her. They tangled together like knotted shoestrings in her mind, so she said nothing.

She hardly ever thought of him. He had worn a place for himself in some corner of her heart, as a sea shell, always boring against the rock, might do. The making of the place had been her pain. But now the shell was safely in the rock. It was lodged, and ground no longer.

He knew the anguish of the marrowThe ague of the skeleton;No contact possible to fleshAllayed the fever of the bone.

It's the nights that I cried myself to sleep and my tears crawled across the bridge of my nose that God most often used to develop me into the person I am today.

Somewhere deep within the tormented man there is a tormented child who feels doomed to torment others!

God doesn't cut us to kill us but to heal us. It's the difference between experiencing the blade of a dagger in a back-alley attack and the blade of a scalpel in an operating room.

A pearl of great price is our pain wrapped in God's perfection.

Even the most voluptuous of fast-paced and lace-clad women cannot console the anguish of masculine tears blocked and cries muffled. Broken men try to mask their hurts behind empty emblems of success, but hidden behind those frail facades are screaming hearts bound in a forced silence.

?yj?c w coraz bardziej sterylnej rzeczywisto?ci, unikamy cierpienia i bólu. Zapominamy o tym, ?e i jedno, i drugie jest integraln? cz??ci? naszego ?ycia i post?pu. Crosfit wprowadza te uczucia do naszego sownika.

You can't get better without sacrifice. It requires a tolerance to discomfort.

Until you take a walk through in their shoes, you'll have no idea where and how much they hurt in their journey.

As the light begins to intensify, so does my misery, and I wonder how it is possible to hurt so much when nothing is wrong.

Aren't you in pain, Mother?' she wanted to call out. 'Mother, I'm suffering too.

I write about wounds, the eternal treasons of life. It's not very funny, but it's sincere. My commitment is to sincerity.

The tattoo is just setting below his hp bone. H e l l i s e m p t y a n d a l l t h e d e v i l s a r e h e r e I kiss my way across the words. Kissing away the devils. Kissing away the pain.

Don't do that," he says. "Don't ask me questions you already know the answers to. Twice I've laid myself bare to you and all it's gotten me was a bullet wound and a broken heart. Don't torture me," he says, meeting my eyes again. "It's a cruel thing to do, even to someone like me.