#pain

The safest and most suitable form of penance seems to be that which causes pain in the flesh but does not penetrate to the bones, that is, which causes suffering but not sickness. ↗

— Saint Ignatius

#causes #does #flesh #form #most

Some people like to paint trees. I like to paint love. I find it more meaningful than painting trees. ↗

— Robert Indiana

#i #like #love #meaningful #more

I realize that protest paintings are not exactly in vogue, but I've done many. ↗

— Robert Indiana

#done #exactly #i #many #paintings

I describe my works as books, but my publishers in Spain, in the United States, and elsewhere insist on calling them novels. ↗

— Guillermo Cabrera Infante

#calling #describe #elsewhere #i #insist

Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. ↗

— J.K. Rowling

#feeling

No society has been able to abolish human sadness, no political system can deliver us from the pain of living, from our fear of death, our thirst for the absolute. It is the human condition that directs the social condition, not vice versa. ↗

— Eugene Ionesco

#abolish #absolute #been #condition #death

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ↗

— Anais Nin

#blossom #bud #came #day #more

You might as well ask an artist to explain his art, or ask a poet to explain his poem. It defeats the purpose. The meaning is only clear thorough the search. ↗

— Rick Riordan

#artist #painting #poem #poet #poetry

I DON'T CARE!" Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!" "You do care," said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it. ↗

— J.K. Rowling

#death #dumbledore #harry-potter #hurt #life

I stopped. She was bleeding after all. Perfect lines crossed her wrists, not near any crucial veins, but enough to leave wet red tracks across her skin. She hadn;t hit her veins when she did this; death hadn't been her goal. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#inner-pain #lissa #page- #death