It’s easy for someone to joke about scars if they’ve never been cut.
Catalog
Quotes tagged ‘Pain’
Long ago, there was something in me, but now that thing is gone. Now that thing is gone, that thing is gone. I cannot cry. I cannot care. That thing will come back no more.
When your heart is broken you plant seeds in the cracks and you pray for rain.
There are times when you just have to let it all out. All the anger, all the pain.
The deeper the wound, the more private the pain.
One day your heart will take you to your Lover. One day your soul will carry you to the Beloved. Don’t get lost in your pain, know that one day your pain will become your cure.
Tell me where it hurts, she’d say. Stop howling. Just calm down and show me where. But some people can’t tell where it hurts. They can’t calm down. They can’t ever stop howling.
You ache with it all; and the more mysterious it is, the more you ache.
It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.
Perhaps some day I’ll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.
Each person’s heart breaks in its own way. Every cure will be different, but there are some things we all need. Before anything else, we need to feel safe.
Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them.
I have scars on my hands from touching certain people... Certain heads, certain colours and textures of human hair leave permanent marks on me.
How quietly we endure all that falls upon us.
It’s not the pain I’m afraid of; I know about the pain. What I’m afraid of is the end of this small, sweet dream.
I want to know what to do with the dead things we carry.
The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.
When grief is deepest, words are fewest.
For there is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one’s own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes.