Quotes
Quotes about Pain
What is deservedly suffered must be borne with calmness, but when the pain is unmerited, the grief is resistless. [Lat., Leniter ex merito quidquid patiare ferendum est, Quae venit indigne poena dolenda venit.]
Suffering is the ancient law of love; there is not quest without pain; there is no lover who is not also a martyr.
O summer day beside the joyous sea! O summer day so wonderful and white, So full of gladness and so full of pain! Forever and forever shalt thou be To some the gravestone of a dead delight, To some the landmark of a new domain.
How fine has the day been! how bright was the sun, How lovely and joyful the course that he run! Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun, And there followed some droppings of rain: But now the fair traveller's come to the west, His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best; He paints the skies gay as he sinks to his rest, And foretells a bright rising again.
I imagine one of the reasons people cling to thier hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain. -James Baldwin.
(Cornwall:) Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a man? (Kent:) A tailor, sir. A stonecutter or a painter could not have made him ill, though they had been but two years o' th' trade.
O ye! who teach the ingenious youth of nations, Holland, France, England, Germany or Spain, I pray ye flog them upon all occasions, It mends their morals, never mind the pain.
What gem hath dropp'd, and sparkles o'er his chain? The tear most sacred, shed for other's pain, That starts at once--bright pure--from Pity's mine, Already polish'd by the hand divine!
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth, With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks, Turn all her mother's pains and benefits To laughter and contempt, that she may feel How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a thankless child.
When thought becomes excessively painful, action is the finest remedy.
Truth crushed to earth shall rise again: Th' eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes in pain, And dies among his worshippers.
The gloaming comes, the day is spent, The sun goes out of sight, And painted is the occident With purple sanguine bright.
If we divine a discrepancy between a man's words and his character, the whole impression of him becomes broken and painful; he revolts the imagination by his lack of unity, and even the good in him is hardly accepted.
Virtue is not the absense of vices or the avoidance of moral dangers; virtue is a vivid and separate thing, like pain or a particular smell.
I wonder if ever a song was sung but the singer's heart sang sweeter! I wonder if ever a rhyme was rung but the thought surpassed the meter! I wonder if ever a sculptor wrought till the cold stone echoed his ardent thought! Or, if ever a painter with light and shade the dream of his inmost heart portrayed!
Her mind lives tidily, apart From cold and noise and pain, And bolts the door against her heart, Out wailing in the rain.
Oft he that doth abide Is cause of his own paine, But he that flieth in good tide Perhaps may fight again.
Since ancient Time began, Ever on some great soul God laid an infinite burden-- The weight of all this world, the hopes of man, Conflict and pain, and fame immortal are his guerdon.
Till taught by pain, Men really know not what good water's worth; If you had been in Turkey or in Spain, Or with a famish'd boat's-crew had your berth, Or in the desert heard the camel's bell, You'd wish yourself where Truth is--in a well.
O Lord! methought what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! What sights of ugly death within mine eyes! Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wracks; A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon; Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, All scatt'red in the bottom of the sea: Some lay in dead men's skulls, and in the holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept (As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems, That wooed the slimy bottom of the deep And mocked the dead bones that lay scatt'red by.
Weakness to be wroth with weakness! woman's pleasure, woman's pain-- Nature made them blinder motions bounded in a shallower brain.
Who hath not heard the rich complain Of surfeits, and corporeal pain? He barr'd from every use of wealth, Envies the ploughman's strength and health.
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.
Be aware of wonder. Live a balanced life - learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
Work thou for pleasure--paint or sing or carve The thing thou lovest, though the body starve-- Who works for glory misses oft the goal; Who works for money coins his very soul. Work for the work's sake, then, and it may be That these things shall be added unto thee.
