Quotes About Pain

suddenly you discovered you had it and had had it a long time without knowing it. That was the way it was with pain.

Writing in English is the most ingenious torture ever devised for sins committed in previous lives. The English reading public explains the reason why.

My mouth is full of decayed teeth and my soul of decayed ambitions.

It is as painful perhaps to be awakened from a vision as to be born.

no more pain. wake no more. nobody owns

Wonderlawn's lost us for ever. Alis, alas, she broke the glass! Liddell lokker through the leafery, ours is mistery of pain.

Derevaun Seraun! Derevaun Seraun!" ("The end of pleasure is pain!")

Pain, that was not yet the pain of love, fretted his heart. Silently, in a dream she had come to him after her death, her wasted body within its loose brown graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath, that had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a faint odour of wetted ashes.

He had spoken himself into boldness. Stephen, shielding the gaping wounds which the words had left in his heart, said very coldly: --I am not thinking of the offence to my mother.

shielding the gaping wounds which the words had left in his heart...

He was listening with pain of spirit to the overtone of weariness behind their frail fresh innocent voices. Even before they set out on life's journey they seemed weary already.

He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place." ? James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

No roses without thorns.

The long eyelids beat and lift: a burning needleprick stings and quivers in the velvet iris.

bowl of bitter waters.

wounds tingle most when they are about to heal.

It is as painful perhaps to be awakened from a vision as to be born. Any object, intensely regarded, may be a gate of access to the incorruptible eon of the gods.

Pe treptele îndep?rtate ale altarului cel mare, gol precum trupul domnului, preoÈ›ii zac prosternaÈ›i în È™optit? rug?ciune(...) Ea st? în picioare lâng? mine, palid? È™i rece, înveÈ™mântat? în umbrelele naosului negru ca p?catul, cu cotul fragil la braÈ›ul meu (...)Îi v?d ochii întunecaÈ›i È™i plini de suferin??, frumoÈ™i ca ochii unei antilope. O, ran? nemiloas?! Dumnezeu libidinos!

The eyes that mock me sign the way Whereto I pass at eve of day. Grey way whose violet signals are The trysting and the twining star. Ah star of evil! star of pain! Highhearted youth comes not again Nor old heart's wisdom yet to know The signs that mock me as I go.

there were times when you are very alone in the world and your own thoughts flay your skin an inch at a time.

It is the kind of sobbing you only hear from a woman, because it comes from pain that men do not have to bear; it's the pain of labor; it's the pain of rejection and betrayal; it is a form of rage so great there is no receptacle big enough in which to confine it. And worst of all, it cannot be described or understood by those who have not experienced it themselves.

Sometimes the father poured a sack full of dry rice on the floor and made Clete kneel on the kernels until sunrise; sometimes he sat on the side of the bed and gently touched Clete's face with a hand that was as callused as a carpenter's; sometimes he lay down beside Clete and wept as a child would.

These thoughts robbed the light from my eyes

We get hurt worse by the people whom we care about. And they seldom mean to do it. That's what makes it so painful, kiddo.