Best 10157 quotes in «pain quotes» category

Prophecies aren't meant to be supernatural or some sort of other worldly power. It's a mathematical calculationss. The near and dear one's can always tell accurately what's going to happen. But the problem is, we never pay attention to their words. Cause they aren't Gypsy!

provou que (o prazer) é um presente da divindade, 'pois - dizia - o homem não pode dar a si próprio nem sensações nem ideias, recebe tudo; a dor e o prazer lhe vêm de fora, como sua existência'.

Puoi pensare che sia così. Puoi sperare di nasconderti dietro l’illusione di stare bene. Ma al dolore non importa. Penetra negli spazi che trova, filtra nella tua anima e ti divora, se glielo lasci fare. Ma io non gli permetterò di consumarlo. Lotterò perché lui torni a vedere la luce proprio come lui ha fatto con me.

...purification was the point of such pain.

Pushing our pain aside...diminishes our human experience.

Put all your pain on a piece of paper, write it all down, every experience, every ache, every hurtful moment. Then take a match, and set fire to that piece of paper. All the hurt you have inside you is burning just as it burnt inside of you, until it is completely gone. From this moment forward you are free. Nothing can harm you. No past. No present. No future. You are reborn into water, and nothing in the entirety of this world can set fire to water, nor crush it. Whatever pressures you face, you will float. Whatever tries to sink you, you will rise up. Today, right now, in this moment, you are a warrior. Now smile, it will set fire to those who sought to burn you...

Quando dice Cucciamelo sta dicendo È una gabbia di matti, tesorino bello, quindi spacchiamogli il culo a questi stronzi. E quando la mia risposta è Dai tiratelo fuori sto dicendo Eccoci qua, belli tosti e sempre col sorrisone in faccia nonostante tutta la merda che ci piove addosso. Ci stiamo dicendo Se hai qualcosa che ti fa star male, un rimorso o un dolore, mangiatelo, bevitelo, pippatelo, scopatelo, usalo, ciuccialo, ammazzalo.

Quiero domar el dolor como si fuera un animal salvaje.

Rainbows are birthed in storms, not in sunshine.

Rage and revenge sat in his heart fanned by time and silence. Before he could realise anything, he was engulfed in flames. Everything he touched, lost its existence in his life. Turning him into a monster, who destroys everything in a daylight but cries in dark and silence.

Rather than continuing on the normal sexual path toward pain, emptiness, and idolatry, you can allow God to heal you, change the way you think, and place deliberate safeguards in your life to protect you.

Rationality is the recognition of the fact that existence exists, that nothing can alter the truth and nothing can take precedence over that act of perceiving it, which is thinking—that the mind is one’s only judge of values and one’s only guide of action—that reason is an absolute that permits no compromise—that a concession to the irrational invalidates one’s consciousness and turns it from the task of perceiving to the task of faking reality—that the alleged short-cut to knowledge, which is faith, is only a short-circuit destroying the mind—that the acceptance of a mystical invention is a wish for the annihilation of existence and, properly, annihilates one’s consciousness.

Reaching the summit of K2 was an incredible experience, but I would trade it in a heartbeat to have Dan back.

Raw anguish slithers through my brittle bones as the deathly call rots the air. Who murdered you old friend? The forest has no words to identify the hand, only erratic echo.

Razmenjujemo tek poneke poglede u prolazu, providne osmehe, skrivajuci bol, nagovestavajuci nastavak zivota, jedno bez drugog.

Real is better, The truth is better. Painful but better.

...real childhood scars heal, but not when band-aids replace self-reflection.

Real faith looks beneath the surface. Real faith knows that faith works sometimes in dark places. Real faith knows that sometimes in order to see a change, you will have to steer through your situation to really see it.

reality sucks, that's probably why we dream. Why our bodies need sleep. So we can escape. Escape this earth, at least just for a little while. Everynight, we get to go away. Sleep is the only time I feel safe. The only time I can leave this place. This reality that feels like needles sticking into my flesh. This hell that is so hot it makes my hair sweat. Makes mymind melt. In my sleep I hear music, I see faces, songs and smiles and dad hugging me tight. Never letting me go. Telling me to be strong. Telling me not to give up hope. Sometimes I wake up crying. Sometimes I wish I didn't wake up at all" - jamie adoff

Realize that by hurting your own characters, you are not a sadist. You are not deliberately hurting your loved ones merely to watch them suffer. You’re giving a gift. You’re helping them grow and develop. Your characters take on deeper meaning to become more alive on your pages. They’ll become real.

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

Realize that the tests you endure will mold your character, persona, and will. The more heartbreak and pain you will feel with your trials in life, the greater your joy and glory will be once you've overcome. Not IF, not POSSIBLY, not MAYBE, but ONCE you have overcome.

Real Men can commit to 1 person. Only boys are "Players", pimps usually get lock up or die at the end of movies, & dogs catch fleas!

Recently God asked me the same question in a new way, "And if I don't allow you to heal, if I never remove the pain, will you still trust Me?

Rebuilding is something that is practically difficult than starting over from nothing.

Reframe pain as a signal. Pain is an indicator of learning.

Reframing your past painful experiences and seeing them in a humorous light takes away the power and emotional charge attached to the memory of the hurtful event.

Relationships are like walls painted off-white and every time you’ll hurt me, it will be like resting dirty shoes on them, like bashing holes in the walls, one after the other. And then there will come a day, where the walls will be filled with so many holes, that there wouldn’t be any place left for you to place the tiniest kiss. Only then will I walk away for good.

Rejection is one of the worse forms of pain. Loss is the worst. Grief haunts until you allow yourself to move on.

Relationships are constantly changing. They have to be dealt with every day anew. They are not constant, unchanging entities. You have to pay attention. If things take a turn for the worse then it is painful but it’s a chance to see things differently, a chance to see more. So that is a helpful pain.

Relationships are messy and painful, and hard to maintain. It takes time build, but only seconds to destroy.

Rejection is a blade to the heart. It's the worst kind of pain.

Relationships are like glass, complacent when cherished and irreplaceable once trampled on. It is advisable to let the broken glass be than hurt yourself trying to put it back together.

Religion is a non-alcoholic man's alcohol. Alcohol is a non-religious man's religion.

Relish the pleasure of affection, Reckoning the pain of privation. Lest you should drift from reality, Suffering from unbearable agony.

Remember that grief is a necessary pain. It’s your only way to heal. To starve it will destroy you.”~The Grimoire

Remember: God's grief at the unspeakable things we do to one another is beyond measuring, but so is His mercy. It might seem a terrible thing to say to people who've lost and suffered so much at the hands of hatred and violence. But true courage is not to hate our enemy, any more than to fight and kill him. To love him, to love in the teeth of his hate—that is real bravery. That ought to earn people m-m-medals.

...Religious observances, once so full of suffering and awe, have become accommodating and benign. Teachers go out of their way to avoid embarrassing, insulting, overworking, or otherwise vexing their students. Each year public language is further purged of impurities that might injure sensitive groups. Prime-time television series seem dedicated to the comforting message that things are really okay. Indeed, modern society's war on pain has been vastly more successful than its war on pain's causes.

Reliving your painful past will poison your heart and your tomorrow.

Rule #1 always look out for yourself first don't nobody love/care for you like you do.

Resistere. Nessun singolo istante di quel dolore era insopportabile. Eccolo qua un secondo: lo aveva sopportato. Insopportabile era il pensiero di tutti gli istanti in fila, uno dietro l'altro, splendenti. E la proiezione della paura futura [...]. Ma niente di tutto questo è vero, ora. [...] Poteva accovacciarsi nello spazio tra due battiti del cuore e fare di ogni battito un muro e vivere là dentro. Non permettere alla sua testa di guardare sopra il muro. La cosa insopportabile è cosa ne penserebbe la sua testa. Cosa potrebbe raccontargli la sua testa se guardasse al di là del muro. Ma potrebbe scegliere di non ascoltarla.

Rise up and lift your sword, peaceful warrior. Keep it strong and steady. You've already lived and fought a thousand battles, and you're not here—again—to cower in fear and pain.

Rigor Mortis.” I say, almost as an apology. But he won’t have any of it. He locks onto my gaze. He doesn’t lean forward, but he doesn’t need to, suddenly the room feels like it’s filled with him. His presence floats in the air like a noxious gas, and I’m breathing it in. “Ike, you don’t get it. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Do you think I have the right to talk to anyone? Do you think its fun to have a ‘human’ brain in a pet’s body? Sure, I have Kamu. And that’s fugging great, but guess what? Kamu is queen to be, and emotionally unstable.” I've never heard Rig talk this powerfully before, but he doesn’t seem scary, just sad. “And then I get someone else I can actually talk to, Ike, I get you. And you don’t treat me like I’m a pet and you talk about Kamu like she needs to be protected and you are there. You are there, and you keep being there, and the only one who’s ever there is Kamu, but now there is Ike. And Ike is perfect, albeit a bit dense, but perfect.” “Rig, I’m really sorry bu-“ I start, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. With each sentence Rig loses some of his force, he sounds more pathetic and lost. “I’m not done.” He pronounces the words in such a voice that it makes me shut up more than the context of the sentence does. “And all I want is to be with this boy who is there, this boy who is my friend, this boy who isn’t always caught up in politics. All I want is to have my one good break.” He finishes. I keep holding his eye contact, and his eyes, they already reflect hurt and rejectment. I don’t know if from me…or from life.

Rose lived the same life I did, but she doesn’t have PTSD. No bad dreams, no missing memories. Sometimes I’m jealous that she seems to deal with everything better than I do. But then I’ll catch her with this hollow look in her eyes and think maybe she just disguises everything for my benefit. Maybe she’s broken on the inside too.

Russian Dolls: Here's the hard truth: doing this work is not easy. It will be scary and make you cry. Remember how wonderfully tears can heal.

Salt waters shall be found in the sweet, and all friends shall destroy one another; then shall wit hide itself, and understanding withdraw itself into his secret chamber-

Sam groaned. A warmth on her face alerted her to the new morning. She opened one eye and peered at the fuzzy daylight streaming in through the window. Her head throbbed like a bitch. Her mouth felt like a carpet. She pushed herself off the couch and stood up shakily, kicking bottles as she stumbled to her small kitchen. Every movement was painful and slow. She was a sloth tight-roping through time. She held onto the basin for a moment to steady herself. She grabbed a plastic cup and opened the tap, letting it flow as she filled and refilled it, gulping down as much water as she could. She splashed her face, neck and chest with water, then refilled the cup and dumped the contents over her head. She stood there, unaware of the moments passing by, as the water dripped down her body. Willing herself to wake up and feel better. Willing the nausea into oblivion.

Satan can’t prevail against you when you know God’s Word and stand on it. So have your ‘It is written’ armour ready. Build yourself up on the Word of God before the attack comes.

saturated & silent… i stand beneath your blackest cloud, absorbing all i can of the pain you felt.

Scars mean we’ve survived something terrible. They prove we are tough. That we are survivors. We are alive.