Quotes About Pain

I dream of broken hearts tonight, And one of them is mine. It will not mend with sympathy, It won't be healed by wine. The only balm I can concieve To put the hurt to right, Would be, my sweat, of you Were not to live beyond tonight.

No tears, please. It's a waste of good suffering.

Isn't there anything you care about?" "All is death, woman. All is pain. Love breeds loss. Isolation breeds resentment. No matter which way we turn, we are beaten. Our only true inheritance is death. And our only legacy, dust.

Allí el placer era dolor, y viceversa. Y él lo conocía tan bien que era como sentirse en casa.

The stench of disinfectant could not entirely mask the odor of human pain.

As Harry marveled, the Cenobite continued his brutal effort of making new adjustments to his own flesh so as to fit the Devil's suit: first a slice off his other hip, down to the red meat; then up to his arms, slicing away the flesh at the back of his triceps; and passing the knife from left hand to right and back again, cutting effortlessly with either. The area around his feet looked like the floor of a butcher's store. Cobs and slices of fatty meat were scattered everywhere.

That's what tears are for, after all. A way for the soul to bleed. Pg. 109

Lügen schmerzen, die Wahrheit jedoch bewegt uns.

look for a long time at what pleases you, and longer still at what pains you...

Blaming others doesn't help you make the shift into courage and recognizing the support of Spirit and your own soul working together. Blaming yourself and just trying to paddle as fast as you can as you tell yourself how stupid and inadequate you were keeps you stuck in the pain and suffering caused by your small self.

Poor Grigor. His heart simply became too heavy, there in the cavity of his chest.

I love life and I want to live, to cry but cannot—I feel such a pain in my soul—a pain which frightens me. My soul is ill. My soul, not my mind. The doctors do not understand my illness.... Everybody who reads these lines will suffer.... My body is not ill, it is my soul that is ill.

It doesn't help an animal to cry when it's in pain. But it does it.

Her companion froze then his eyes widened and he began to laugh. Loudly, derisively, uproariously. His body shook and he leaned his shoulder against the wall as if needing to be held upright. Good grief. When the dark pain and anguish that always lingered in his countenance evaporated and turned into reckless humor instead, Chas became unbelievably handsome. Impossibly good-looking—so

There was an order of misery, misery tucked inside miseries, and you were meant to keep track.

Pain could be killed. Sadness could not, but the drugs did shut its mouth for a time.

There was an order of misery, misery tucked inside miseries, and you were meant to keep track. The

that's what you do when you take away someone's babies—steal their future. Torture them as much as you can when they are on this earth, then take away the hope that one day their people will have it better.

On visiting day, he told her he was okay but sad, it was difficult but he was hanging in there, when all he wanted to say was, Look at what they did to me, look at what they did to me.

There was pain and then there was pain. Different magnitudes you could stand or not stand. Wetting your beak and wetting your beak.

He heard the sound of teeth splintering.

She likes the people with the endurance to tolerate the drudge, the ones who know that pain is a requirement, not a curse.

She was forever tilted sideways by the notion that pain was inevitable, chance was cruel, and all human ingenuity should go towards the making of a good cup of tea.

She takes another long haul, lets the smoke settle in her lungs-- she has heard somewhere that cigarettes are good for grief. One long drag and you forget how to cry. The body too busy dealing with the poison.