It just made me realize that I wouldn’t have anything if you left,” he said miserably. Jake gave a pained wince and looked down at the floor. “I wouldn’t have anything if I left, either,” he murmured.
You’re British, you’re a priest, you’re a medical doctor, you can handle a rifle, you know Morse Code, and most importantly of all, you’re a fucking pain in the ass – so off you go!
You are enjoying the gift of genius. When ordinary people are confronted with multiple tragedies, the pain scarcely increases. They simple can't feel the extra burdens. But you have a greater capacity for suffering.
There is joy at the end of every struggle we face. But you can never cross over and get there with the boats of complains. Complainer is only an explainer of pain! Take action!
Don’t run away from the gains because it comes with pains. If you ever love to go for the sweet honey, be ready to be stung by a busy bee! Go for it anyway!
Shake hands with today; it is here already. Bid farewell to yesterday; it’s gone already. Never let yesterday’s pain rob you of today’s gains. Drive yourself positively!
Everyone has one or two secrets they never want to reveal to others. But they also want at least one person to accept everything about them…no matter how they suffer or how painful it gets
Why couldn't he see the tragedy of what was unfolding? Was it because it was too painful, or was it because holding onto hope and dying was better than living if it meant you were forced to see the world for what it was?
I remember the pain I felt, and wonder why a man who was such an accomplished liar had to tell the truth that day.
In many cases, people hold on so tightly to their past pains to avoid letting go of the “excuses” and the fear of having to be accountable for their life.
I spent the rest of the day in someone else's story. The rare moments that I put the book down, my own pain returned in burning stabs.
I'm trying to focus, telling myself these are just empty words, but I'm lying. Because somehow, just reading these words is too much; and the thought of her in pain is causing me an unbearable amount of agony.
Pain laughed giddily at the thought, for love brought its own brand of torment. Lots and lots of torment. In the heart, the soul. Both causing a physical ache too intense to be relieved.
Everyone's pain is relative. We've learned how to deal with grief, because we've had to. But Bree hasn't. And our grief was shared, because we all felt it at the same time. She had to deal with hers alone.
Though I knew in my mind that others had felt such loss, this loss was mine, and I felt that no one would ever understand it, and to try to explain the lonliness and pain I felt would be futile.
The pain is what you make of it. You have to find something in it that yields. I understood my guiding imperative as: keep bleeding, but find some love in the blood.
Human history is one prolonged and painful limping. We invariably step with one foot on the rock of justice, and with the other, we sink into the mire of deceit and self-delusion.
Sometimes, a lie is told in kindness. I don't believe it ever works kindly. The quick pain of truth can pass away, but the slow, eating agony of a lie is never lost.
the power to cause pain is the only power that matters, the power to kill and destroy, because if you can't kill then you are always subject to those who can, and nothing and one will ever save you.
And God's epic grace shows us how to rise above our pain and circumstances with enduring hope and faith in him.
1.01 MY PRAYER No stone may turn when I walk, No being may pain when I talk, No man may dread of my knock, And this I ask of You to stock. [1] - 1
