Pain Quotes - Page 38

Meadow's Waltz...the meadow had becomeher sanctuary of spiritoffering an escape from a painno child should ever endureforeboding clouds began...

Letting go is not getting rid of memories. Memories will stay, they always do. Letting go is making sure that the pain associated with the memories goes away.

But doesn't love cause too much pain?" she said. "To be worth it?" "It causes pain, indeed," Grumpy said. "But it's worth it. It's a good pain.

Without forgiveness and love, you will live with resentment, bitterness, malice and strife which result in more pain. You can never love without forgiving. Forgiveness deepens your ability to love and frees you from pain.

God is the Knower and not the sufferer of pain.

She cannot: but must do it by distance of time.

The pain of an unpublished manuscript is akin to the trauma of bearing an unborn.

Suffering is normal. Pain is normal, it is part of life... What is its texture, the weight of our suffering? What is its meaning? Begin by touching it, by coming close to it, accepting it: Hello, suffering, I am here with you. I am beside you, one with you, I am you. I am suffering.

If I tell Dad he has a problem, he’ll think I hate him. How can I hurt him more? He just lost everything.”Wesley shook his head. “Not everything. He didn’t lose you,” he said. “At least not yet. If you don’t talk to him, he’ll just end up driving you away, and then he will be in far worse pain.

And yet, I have not wronged you, have I? Indeed if there is anyone I may have sinned against, it is me. That desiring you as I do, needing you as I do, I still let you go.

Don't turn your head. Keep looking at the bandaged place. That's where the light enters you.

I was starting to come to grips with the fact that I had created a lot of pain and suffering around me, not just within me.

You get use to someone—start to like them, even—and they leave. In the end, everyone leaves.

Human beings sometimes find a kind of pleasure in nursing painful emotions, in blaming themselves without reason or even against reason.

Come t'e' picciol fallo amaro morso! Dante. What grievous pain a little fault doth give thee!

Here dwells a snake, one thousand miles longCoiled, one thousand miles deepEyes like candy, it has eyes like candyHard and blue, but soft as kittens feetOut of sight or in the element of lightIt could be a devil, it could be an angelWith spiders inside a vision from hellIts spine is a vertical screamSlow as concrete, blurred as a dreamFueled by inertia, depth, radius, and velocity,Its soul--a twisted wreckage of despair and painAnd the spiders inside are just praying for rainKilling time killing timeAnd praying for rainOne thousand miles deep

Waiting hurts. Forgetting hurts. But not knowing which decision to take can sometimes be the most painful...

..various people had long had the feeling that gain through pain was nature's way

So I make no effort to hide my pain. I don’t ever put it all on display like this—but for today and all the rest of the days of the trial, I must. My every flinch, every flicker of pain, will bemagnified a hundred times over, then dissected by the pundits and talking heads. But I’m told it’s necessary; the world needs to see me vulnerable and wounded. I cannot appear not to care or to lack remorse, but that removes a crucial component of my self- defense mechanism and leaves me bleeding for all the world to see. I suppose that’s rather the point.

You're beautiful, Jenna. i'm a man and I'm afraid to admit when I'm lucky enough to look at someone as beautiful as you.

Children of the mentally ill learn early on how not to be a bother, especially if they grew up with neglect. As my sister insisted once, when she was in severe pain after injuring her ankle, 'This isn't me! This is not who I am!

The interior of the arms dealer's private jet was so ugly it hurt my feelings as well as my eyeballs.

People seemed to have two different selves—an experiencing self who endures every moment equally and a remembering self who gives almost all the weight of judgment afterward to two single points in time, the worst moment and the last one. The remembering self seems to stick to the Peak-End rule even when the ending is an anomaly. Just a few minutes without pain at the end of their medical procedure dramatically reduced patients’ overall pain ratings even after they’d experienced more than half an hour of high level of pain. “That wasn’t so terrible,” they’d reported afterward. A bad ending skewed the pain scores upward just as dramatically.

That’s the thing about pain, it demands to be felt.

The real world reveals itself like surprise gifts on our doorstep, special moments that seem above and beyond the reality of others. These times are full, beautiful and meaningful beyond words, even when wrapped in pain.

Faith to challenge equals recovery. When you learn to challenge your situation God speaks.

Ill usage makes the sweetest of us vicious.

Darkness swallows everything, even pain. That’s what makes it so tempting. Comforting. It disguises weakness as strength.

there is no action kind enough to express heartbreak. I am left shut, the quietest of blossoms.

The soul that loves and suffers is in the sublime state.

Never love a woman so much that she has the power to destroy you when she slips between your fingers like sand through an hourglass, leaving you behind to face the cruel monster called Time all alone.

There is a pain you can’t think your way out of. You can’t talk it away. If there was someone to talk to. You can walk. One foot the other foot. Breathe in breathe out. Drink from the stream. Piss. Eat the venison strips. And. You can’t metabolize the loss. It is in the cells of your face, your chest, behind the eyes, in the twists of the gut. Muscles, sinew, bone. It is all of you. When you walk you propel it forward. When you let the sled and sit on a fallen log and. You imagine him curling in the one patch of sun maybe lying over your feet. Then it sits with you, the Pain puts its arm over your shoulders. It is your closest friend. Steadfast. And at night you can’t bear to hear your own breath unaccompanied by another and underneath the big stillness like a score is the roaring of the cataract of everything being and being torn away. Then. The Pain is lying beside your side, close. Does not bother you with sound even of breathing.

You can't compare and rank heartache. Pain is pain is pain. There is no precise measurement. No quarter cup.

She surveyed the undergrowth and focused on a cluster of fern fronds curled tightly against the new life they had been given. She often wondered why the fern’s new existence was so firmly wound up. But she questioned their response no longer. Oaklee felt every muscle in her body want to curl up in self-protection, to comfort the pain, anger, and fear.

Our cells stimulate our pain receptors in order to get our brain to focus and pay attention. Once my brain acknowledges the existence of the pain, then it has served its purpose and either lightens up in intensity, or goes away.

I don’t want to be my limitations. I don’t want to be my pain. I don’t want to be my embarrassment.

As I was saying, that’s the dark secret of our time, no one mentions it, but every time one opens a door one is greeted by a shrill, desperate and inaudible scream.

At some level, it is even tempting to think that since strict materialism is among the most incoherent of superstitions - one that has never really asked the question of the being of things in any depth or with any persistence, or one that has at best attempted to conjure that question away as a fallacy of grammar - it is incapable of imagining any conception of God more sophisticated than its own. The materialist encounters an instance of unjust suffering and, by a sort of magical thinking, concludes from the absence of any immediately visible moral order that there must be nothing transcendent of material causality, in much the same way that certain of our more remote, primitive ancestors might have seen a flash of lightning in the sky and concluded that some god must have flung it from on high. In neither case does the conclusion follow from the evidence (though in the latter case the reasoning is somewhat more rigorous); and in neither case is the god at issue much more than an affective myth.

He built a fort around, making it impossible for anyone to go near him. And he sat near the window watching her dance in the rain, with someone else.

Don't make light of any man's pain.

Among other things, Kathryn knew, grief was physically exhausting.

There is much pain that is quite noiseless; and vibrations that make human agonies are often a mere whisper in the roar of hurrying existence. There are glances of hatred that stab and raise no cry of murder; robberies that leave man or woman forever beggared of peace and joy, yet kept secret by the sufferer—committed to no sound except that of low moans in the night, seen in no writing except that made on the face by the slow months of suppressed anguish and early morning tears. Many an inherited sorrow that has marred a life has been breathed into no human ear.

It wasn't so much that Lola Plum believed she'd learned her lesson in love. Lola Plum was just realistic about life.

Realization hits you several times until you can't get up.

There was no one to be seen so she gave in freely to her sobs as she made her way home, pressed her arms against her stomach; the pain lodged in there like an ill-tempered f

A void in my chest was beginning to fill with anger. Quiet, defeated anger that guaranteed me the right to my hurt, that believed no one could possibly understand that hurt.

I went into a forest into a plain, and the trees took counsel- And said, Come, let us go and make war against the sea that it may depart away before us, and that we may make us more woods. The floods of the sea also in like manner took counsel, and said, Come, let us go up and subdue the woods of the plain, that there also we may make us another country. The thought of the wood was in vain, for the fire came and consumed it. The thought of the floods of the sea came likewise to nought, for the sand stood up and stopped them. If thou wart judge now betwixt these two, whom would thou begin to justify? or whom would thou condemn?

If you hear a song that makes you cry and you don’t want to cry anymore, you don’t listen to that song anymore. But you can’t get away from yourself. You can’t decide not to see yourself anymore. You can’t decide to turn off the noise in you head.

Well, why would you create something that had the power to hurt You? Or any of Your creatures? Why don't You help us? Do You have any idea how much we hurt? How much we suffer?I know all things, daughter.Well, okay, then know this. We human beings are unhappy all the time. We hate ourselves and we hate each other and sometimes we wish You of Whoever had never created us or this shit-ass world or any other shit-ass world. Do You realize that? So next time You might think about not doing such a half-assed job.

Fear and pain should be treated as signals not to close our eyes but to open them wider.

More it hurt more better it is. Can't nothing heal without pain, you know.

Blood shall drop out of wood, and the stone shall give his voice, and the people shall be troubled:

Like my loved one, I am convinced that we all have critical conditions. Battles that we undertake behind the hospitals, in lonely alleys, secret locations and sometimes public places that are out of reach to those who seem to care.

The presence of crisis does not prove the absence of God. I think in time of crisis Christians should rise up and point to the world on something bigger. The crisis is an opportunity for us to proclaim to the children of darkness what we proclaim in the light.

Sometimes my body wakes me up and says 'Hey, you haven't had pain in a while. How about pain?' And sometimes I can't breathe, and that's hard to live with. But I still celebrate life and don't give up.

Maybe you receive pain selfishly — thinking only of yourself. The cycle of pain wounds every participant.

God's will is determined by His wisdom which always perceives, and His goodness which always embraces the intrinsically good. But when we have said that God commands thing only because they are good, we must add that one of the things intrinsically good is that rational creatures should freely surrender themselves to their Creator in obedience. The content of our obedience - the thing we are commanded to do -- will always be something intrinsically good, something we ought to do even if (by an impossible supposition_ God had not commanded it. But in addition to the content, the mere obeying is also intrinsically good, for, in obeying a rational creature consciously enacts its creaturely role, reverses the act by which we fill, treads Adam's dance backward, and returns.

I WILL REJECT DEATH IF I KNOW HAND COME"but .....................We would not be able to resist the will of god.Whenever, wherever you are. may god is ready to take your life.and honestly death is only the secrets of god almighty one.

The Yogic sages say that all the pain of a human life is caused by words, as is all the joy. We create words to define our experience and those words bring attendant emotions that jerk us around like dogs on a leash.

I want to believe that memories, even sad and painful ones, should not be forgotten forever.