Quotes About Pain

when pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure.

The last few hours were certainly very painful, replied Anne: but when pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure. One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been all suffering, nothing but suffering-

The youth and cheerfulness of morning are in happy analogy, and of powerful operation; and if the distress be not poignant enough to keep the eyes unclosed, they will be sure to open to sensations of softened pain and brighter hope.

Where the wound had been given, there must the cure be found, if any where.

Had I not been bound to silence I could have provided proof enough of a broken heart, even for you.

She longed to know what at the moment was passing in his mind, in what manner he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of everything, she was still dear to him. Perhaps he had been civil only because he felt himself at ease; yet there had been that in his voice which was not like ease. Whether he had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing her she could not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with composure." (Jane Austen,"Pride and prejudice", Chapter 43)

Mine is a misery which nothing can do away.

It stood the record of many sensations of pain, once severe, but now softened; and of some instances of relenting feeling, some breathings of friendship and reconciliation, which could never be looked for again, and which could never cease to be dear. She left it all behind her, all but the recollection that such things had been.

When one is in great pain, you know one cannot feel any blessing quite as it may deserve.

If we have not hearts, we have eyes; and they give us torment enough.

Everybody's heart is open, you know, when they have recently escaped from severe pain, or are recovering the blessing of health.

though under temporary gloom at night, the return of day will hardly fail to bring return of spirits. The youth and cheerfulness of morning are in happy analogy, and of powerful operation; and if the distress be not poignant enough to keep the eyes unclosed, they will be sure to open to sensations of softened pain and brighter hope.

A man like him, in his situation! with a heart pierced, wounded, almost broken! Fanny Harville was a very superior creature, and his attachment to her was indeed attachment. A man does not recover from such a devotion of the heart to such a woman. He ought not; he does not.

but when pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure.

In such moments of precious, invaluable misery, she rejoiced in tears of agony...

Marianne was vexed at it for her sister's sake, and turned her eyes towards Elinor to see how she bore these attacks, with an earnestness which gave Elinor far more pain than could arise from such common-place raillery as Mrs. Jennings's.

It was a remainder of former sentiment; it was an impulse of pure, though unacknowledged friendship; it was a proof of his own warm and amiable heart, which she could not contemplate without emotions so compounded of pleasure and pain, that she knew not which prevailed.

Broken hearts, unrequited love and inconsolable misery are subjects which, most fortunately, I have only ever read in books.

Las personas que como yo padecen de los nervios no tienen muchas ganas de hablar. ¡Nadie imagina mi sufrimiento! Pero siempre ha sido igual. Si uno no se queja, nadie le compadece.

but when pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure. One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been all suffering, nothing but suffering—which was by no means the case

All the overpowering, blinding, bewildering, first effects of strong surprise were over with her. Still, however, she had enough to feel! It was agitation, pain, pleasure, a something between delight and misery.

Every line, every word was -- in the hackneyed metaphor which their dear writer, were she here, would forbid -- a dagger to my heart. To know that Marianne was in town was -- in the same language -- a thunderbolt. -- Thunderbolts and daggers! -- what a reproof would she have given me! -- her taste, her opinions -- I believe they are better known to me than my own, -- and I am sure they are dearer.

Sometime the worst type of weapon in the world is love.

Still, however, she had enough to feel! It was agitation, pain, pleasure, a something between delight and misery.