#suffer

One day we took the children to see a goldsmith refine gold after the ancient manner of the East. He was sitting beside his little charcoal fire. ("He shall sit as a refiner"; the gold- or silversmith never leaves his crucible once it is on the fire.) In the red glow lay a common curved roof tile; another tile covered it like a lid. This was the crucible. In it was the medicine made of salt, tamarind fruit and burnt brick dust, and imbedded in it was the gold. The medicine does its appointed work on the gold, "then the fire eats it," and the goldsmith lifts the gold out with a pair of tongs, lets it cool, rubs it between his fingers, and if not satisfied puts it back again in fresh medicine. This time he blows the fire hotter than it was before, and each time he puts the gold into the crucible, the heat of the fire is increased; "it could not bear it so hot at first, but it can bear it now; what would have destroyed it then helps it now." "How do you know when the gold is purified?" we asked him, and he answered, "When I can see my face in it [the liquid gold in the crucible] then it is pure. ↗

— Amy Carmichael

#fire #gold #heat #pain #pure

There are many who don't wish to sleep for fear of nightmares. Sadly, there are many who don't wish to wake for the same fear. ↗

— Richelle E. Goodrich

#fear #hardship #nightmares #richelle #richelle-goodrich

There are far too many silent sufferers.  Not because they don't yearn to reach out, but because they've tried and found no one who cares. ↗

— Richelle E. Goodrich

#despair #hopelessness #richelle #richelle-goodrich #suffering

Poor God, how often He is blamed for all the suffering in the world. It’s like praising Satan for allowing all the good that happens. ↗

— E.A. Bucchianeri

#blame-game #god #good #good-and-evil #goodness

I'm an alien in my own world, a writer without words, a musician without a piano, a magician without a wand. I am fooled by infinite words that rush in my blood, yet imprisoned by the very thoughts of silence. I'm a gray green fallow leaf on trees and abandoned on the streets, a never-ending spring season and an eternal autumn. I'm the golden of the sun and the silver of the moon, the fog of dawn and the amber of dusk. I'm the white and the red flag , the obedient and the rebel. I am the coward in the brave, and the child in the man. I am, but a writer. ↗

— Nema Al-Araby

#suffering #writer #musician

People think I'm crazy to put myself through such torture, though I would argue otherwise. Somewhere along the line we seem to have confused comfort with happiness. Dostoyevsky had it right: 'Suffering is the sole origin of consciousness.' Never are my senses more engaged than when the pain sets in. There is a magic in misery. Just ask any runner. ↗

— Dean Karnazes

#suffering #torture

I don't look at myself as suffering. ↗

— A. J. Langer

#look #myself #suffering

Perfectionism becomes a badge of honor with you playing the part of the suffering hero. ↗

— David D. Burns

#becomes #hero #honor #part #perfectionism

I've seen firsthand the terrible consequences of drug abuse. My heart is with all who suffer from addiction and the terrible consequences for their families. ↗

— Columba Bush

#addiction #consequences #families #firsthand #heart

It is a great consolation for me to remember that the Lord, to whom I had drawn near in humble and child-like faith, has suffered and died for me, and that He will look on me in love and compassion. ↗

— Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

#compassion #consolation #died #drawn #faith