Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
There is no joy for the one who does not bear sadness, there is no sweetness for the one who does not have patience, there is no delight for the one who does not suffer, and there is no relaxation for the one who does not endure fatigue.
Since I was young, I have always known this: Life damages us, every one. We can’t escape that damage. But now, I am also learning this: We can be mended. We mend each other.
People will hurt you. But don’t use that as an excuse for your poor choices, use it as motivation to make the right ones.
Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.
I will hurt you for this. I don’t know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you’ll know the debt is paid.
Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain.
Some kids are so depressed at home and with how people treat them in school that they cut themselves. This happens all over the world – kids who don’t want to kill themselves, but nobody understands how much they hurt, so they cut themselves with razor blades.
Be proud of your scars. They have everything to do with your strength, and what you’ve endured. They’re a treasure map to the deep self.
Study hard. Work hard. Play harder. Don’t be bound by rules, don’t hurt anybody and never ever live somebody else’s dream.
Pain is only temporary, no matter how long it lasts.
I can endure more pain than anyone you’ve met. That’s why I win, because I can endure more pain.
Nothing hurts a good soul and kind heart more than to live amongst people who can’t understand it.
We are more often frightened than hurt; and we suffer more from imagination than from reality.
If it hurts, DON’T DO IT AGAIN.
If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself, I would find a way.
Cycling is suffering.
People with BPD are like people with third degree burns over 90% of their bodies. Lacking emotional skin, they feel agony at the slightest touch or movement.
It’s only pain, it will not hurt you.
From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a story. A story that says, “I survived.”