#pain

Broken dreams are Like birds without wings , no matter how hard they imagine to fly , but the body refuses to help ... ↗

— Aditya Chandek

#pain #dreams

The hoopoe said: 'Your heart's congealed like ice; When will you free yourself from cowardice? Since you have such a short time to live here, What difference does it make? What should you fear? The world is filth and sin, and homeless men Must enter it and homeless leave again. They die, as worms, in squalid pain; if we Must perish in this quest, that, certainly, Is better than a life of filth and grief. If this great search is vain, if my belief Is groundless, it is right that I should die. So many errors throng the world - then why Should we not risk this quest? To suffer blame For love is better than a life of shame. No one has reached this goal, so why appeal To those whose blindness claims it is unreal? I'd rather die deceived by dreams than give My heart to home and trade and never live. We've been and heard so much - what have we learned? Not for one moment has the self been spurned; Fools gather round and hinder our release. When will their stale, insistent whining cease? We have no freedom to achieve our goal Until from Self and fools we free the soul. To be admitted past the veil you must Be dead to all the crowd considers just. Once past the veil you understand the Way From which the crowd's glib courtiers blindly stray. If you have any will, leave women's stories, And even if this search for hidden glories Proves blasphemy at last, be sure our quest Is not mere talk but an exacting test. The fruit of love's great tree is poverty; Whoever knows this knows humility. When love has pitched his tent in someone's breast, That man despairs of life and knows no rest. Love's pain will murder him and blandly ask A surgeon's fee for managing the task - The water that he drinks brings pain, his bread Is turned to blood immediately shed; Though he is weak, faint, feebler than an ant, Love forces him to be her combatant; He cannot take one mouthful unaware That he is floundering in a sea of care. ↗

— Farid al-Din Attar

#bravery #cowardice #dreams #fear #freedom

What can we do without pain in front of happiness? ↗

— Sorin Cerin

#love #pain #life

The sense of unhappiness is so much easier to convey than that of happiness. In misery we seem aware of our own existence, even though it may be in the form of a monstrous egotism: this pain of mine is individual, this nerve that winces belongs to me and to no other. But happiness annihilates us: we lose our identity. ↗

— Graham Greene

#pain #end

The painter should paint not only what he has in front of him, but also what he sees inside himself. ↗

— Caspar David Friedrich

#front #him #himself #inside #only

There's a lot of pain in my heart because what I accomplished was second to none. I'm not losing any sleep, but I do pay attention every year at this time. ↗

— Bob Hayes

#any #attention #because #every #heart

Everybody needs a way out of that pain. Many people choose drugs and alcohol. Some people obsessively exercise or develop strange dietary habits, which is what I did. At least it got me toward a path of healthier living. ↗

— Mariel Hemingway

#body needs #choose #develop #did #dietary

I have wanted to be a fine artist painter, and I reached the point in art schools were I'd like to understand more about images and how images communicate information to people. And I was not getting very far in that from my professors. ↗

— John Hench

#art #artist #communicate #far #fine

So great was the extremity of his pain and anguish, that he did not only sigh but roar. ↗

— Matthew Henry

#did #extremity #great #his #only

I think art is good at looking back and looking forward. I don't think art is good at looking head-on. At the end of the day, people are more important than paintings. ↗

— Damien Hirst

#back #day #end #end of the day #forward