Pain Quotes - Page 181

What we link to pleasure and what we link to pain determines our destiny.

Pain prompts us to change behavior that is destructive to ourselves or to others. Pain can be a highly effective instructor.

Last dance with Mary Jane One more time to kill the pain I feel summer creepin' in and I'm Tired of this town again

Once again your mind explodes with a searing pain. A floodgate of memories bursts wide. Yet it is her face that keeps haunting you. Always her face. Who is she? Then things begin to crystallize. You remember your funeral. Begging and pleading for someone to release you from the darkness. You're not dead. You can't be. Then you feel her presence. Warm, caring, soothing. But somewhere deep inside she feels empty now. She has no reason. No meaning. No soul. But your soul lives. While her's is dying.

It seems to me morally a decent society will try to take some of the increased benefit and use that to alleviate the pain of the few who are bearing the cost that made it possible.

Boys can be disgusting. You can't leave us alone for any length of time because we will burn something, blow something up or paint something. We're just obnoxious.

It is not a field of a few acres of ground, but a cause, that we are defending, and whether we defeat the enemy in one battle, or by degrees, the consequences will be the same.

The art of life is the art of avoiding pain; and he is the best pilot, who steers clearest of the rocks and shoals with which it is beset.

You've got to use it, the pain. Use it as fuel to move past the torment, to the light at the end of the tunnel

Genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains.

The fire of hell is called eternal, only because it never ends. Still, there is change in the pains of the lost... Hence in hell true eternity does not exist, but rather time.

With what a deep devotedness of woe I wept thy absence - o'er and o'er again Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, And memory, like a drop that, night and day, Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!

In all our losses, all our gains, In all our pleasures, all our pains, The life of life is: Love remains. In every change from good to ill,- If love continues still, Let happen then what will.

The New Testament is a brutal destroyer of human illusions. If you follow Jesus and don't end up dead, it appears you have some explaining to do. The stark signifier of the human condition is one who spoke up for love and justice and was done to death for his pains. The traumatic truth of human history is a mutilated body.

Culture as we're practicing it is causing a lot of pain.

Emotional pain makes me want to isolate. Or hit back. It's very tough to rise above my natural inclinations. I'm always working on this.

Because of our broken instincts we are in pain. We continue in pain because our instincts have been twisted by reason. So, what are we supposed to do? Should we abandon knowledge? Throw away reason? In any event, that wouldn't be possible. For better or worse, we ate the fruit of knowledge long, long ago.

I hate seeing people getting hurt or hurting other people. I hate seeing blood. I am very intolerant of physical pain. I find violence horrifying, so much so that I can't help being intrigued by it.

This is one moment, / But know that another / Shall pierce you with a sudden painful joy.

The more painful it is, tragically, the more you do learn, though, that's the good part.

I think of me being a painter eventually.

Those who die, merely suffering the woes of life like cats and dogs, are they human beings? The worthy are those who, even when agitated by the sharp interaction of pleasure and pain, are discriminating and, knowing them to be of an evanescent nature, become passionately devoted to the Atman. This is all the difference between human beings and animals.

Pain heightens every sense. More powerfully than any drug, it intensifies colors, sounds, sight, feelings. Pain is like a glass wall. It is impossible to climb it, but you must, and, somehow, you do. Then there is an explosion of brilliance and the world is more apparent in its complexity and beauty.

I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me." His pupils contract to pinpoints, dialate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Always," he murmurs.

Even if times got bad, he would never again deny himself the possibility that the future might be happy even if the present was painful. He would allow himself dreams.