I guess I always knew there was something wrong with me, but I thought it was because of my father, or my mother, and the pain they bequeathed to me like a family heirloom, handed down from generation to generation.- Tobias Eaton
And then another letter had come from Christopher, so devastating that Amelia wondered how mere scratches of ink on paper could rip someone's soul to shreds. She had wondered how she could feel so much pain and still survive.
Isn't it obvious in in today's world from people's preoccupation with self-medication, drug and alcohol use, rationalization and avoidance distraction that the truth doesn't just hurt, it's extremely painful.
Nos volvemos importantes para alguien y luego dejamos de serlo, y dejar de serlo es tan doloroso que se nos ocurre que hubiera sido preferible no serlo nunca. Si vas a ponerle muebles a un cuarto vacío, luego no los quites
I know this: there is no sense to grief. There is no pattern or shape or texture, and there are no books or stories which can lessen the pain at losing a person you have loved, and will always love. There are no rules, with loss.
I have found a way to beat myselfI win by losing, something like thatI'm told that I'm stupidSo ok, I'll be stupidIf I can't register the painThen it's not thereI'm not so stupid after allI'll show them
I also wanted you to realize that even though the pain will always be there, I’m living proof you can get past this. Right now I know it feels impossible, but one day you’ll look back and see how far you’ve come.
Já mířím na srdce, ty jenom na ústa,oba už nesmíme zůstati živi,síla už slábne a bolest vyrůstá,soudcuj nám, Bože spravedlivý!
This last week has been a little hell for both of us simply because I didn't understand my own feelings. And because I can't understand them, I blame her for provoking in me feelings that make my world seem suddenly unsafe.
I was everything I was ever asked to be, and as my reward my life was burned to ash. Do not speak to me of easing my pain. My pain is all I have left. Do not speak to me of being a Shadowhunter. I am not one of them. I refuse to be.
If there are two clones, one good and one evil, I can’t kill on sight alone. It’s the same with love. Some love hurts, and some love elevates, but as to which one is which, they are two sides to the same sandwich.
But I've grown thoughtful now. And you have lost Your early-morning freshness of surprise At being so utterly mine: you've learned to fear The gloomy, stricken places in my soul, And the occasional ghosts that haunt my gaze.
Even then, it hurt. The pain was always there, pulling me inside of myself, demanding to be felt. It always felt like I was waking up from the pain when something in the world outside of me suddenly required my comment or attention.
See, guys freak out. They hit critical mass and blast nuclear, white-hot anger out over the world like walking flamethrowers. But girls freak in. They absorb the pain and bitterness and keep right on sponging it up until they drown.
He is forced to coin words himself, and, taking his pain in one hand, and a lump of pure sound in the other (as perhaps the people of Babel did in the beginning), so to crush them together that a brand new word in the end drops out.
