Quotes About Recovery

We'll buy back our own harm with what is most dear to us.

You know what happens when you get out of the Marine Corps, Person continues. you get you brains back.

I haven't been to sleep for over a year. That's why I go to bed early. One needs more rest if one doesn't sleep.

The doctors told me' -- her voice sang on a confidential note-- 'that if any man alive had done the consistent drinking that I have, he would have been physically shattered, my dead, and in his grave--long in his grave.

I've been drunk for about a week now, and I thought it might sober me up to sit in a library.

One writes of scars healed, a loose parallel to the pathology of the skin, but there is no such thing in the life of an individual. There are open wounds, shrunk sometimes to the size of a pin-prick but wounds still. The marks of suffering are more comparable to the loss of a finger, or of the sight of an eye. We may not miss them, either, for one minute in a year, but if we should there is nothing to be done about it.

There are open wounds, shrunk sometimes to the size of a pin-prick but wounds still.

A man does not recover from such jolts-- he becomes a different person and, eventually, the new person finds new things to care about.

Now you've a clean start... you've brushed three or four ornaments down, and in a fit of pique knocked off the rest of them. The thing now is to collect some new ones, and the farther you look ahead in the collecting, the better, but remember, do the next thing.

Receding from a grief, it seems necessary to retrace the same steps that brought us there.

What was the promise with the head sick?

By the next autumn she was gay again, gay as ever.

One writes of scars healed, a loose parallel to the pathology of the skin, but there is no such thing in the life of the individual. There are open wounds, shrunk sometimes to the size of a pin-prick but wounds still. The marks of suffering are more comparable to the loss of a finger, or of the sight of an eye.

Now there was this scarcely saved waif of disaster bringing him the essence of a continent...

For a time she had no accurate sense of her whereabouts or of the events of the day before, or the day before that; then, like a suspended pendulum, memory began to beat out its story, releasing with each swing a burdened quota of time until her life was given back to her.

A heart can be broken but it keeps on beating just the same ~ Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe

She had no interest in love. Love had taken her in the back room and beaten her up pretty badly.

Lenore had pushed her into had been a complete disaster.

Mi hanno fatto tanto male che non mi possono curare nessuna ferita. Tutto il mio corpo è una ferita. Non credo di dovertelo spiegare. E se alla fine mi rimanesse una cicatrice, sarebbe come quella di chi si è interamente bruciato. Io, tutta intera, sarei una cicatrice.

The feeling of pain resembles the anguished, troubled height of convulsions, and suffering-the long and the slow kind-has the intimate yellow which colours the vague bliss of profoundly felt convalescence.

A vida é um hospital Onde quase tudo falta. Por isso ninguém te cura E morrer é que é ter alta.

Indifferent to this, and grieving only as much as he needs to and for as little time as possible — over the death of a son, for example, whom he will forget as the years pass, except on his birthday; over the loss of money, which he mourns until he gets some more or becomes used to the loss — humanity continues digesting and loving. Life recovers and carries on. The dead are buried. Losses forgotten.

We should not sleep to recover the energy expended when awake but rather wake occasionally to defecate the unwanted energy that sleep engenders.

I sure am sick of the Civil War.