Quotes about Pain

For this reason I believe that only humans are capable of true evil—only we can sit down and, in cold blood, work out ways to torture people, to inflict pain. Carefully plan horrific cruelty.

It can make us stronger, more compassionate, more understanding—more like Jesus—if we allow it to. And the more clutter we get rid of in our life here—the more we will be able to enjoy heaven—when we get there. So, pain can have a purpose.

Without that forgiveness, that peace, no heart is ever happy. There is always an inner struggle. Pain. Only when God has been invited in-to manage one's life, to direct one's thinking, to be in control-can one ever get away from all the conflicts inside. We have to stop struggling against His will before we can find real joy.

I am not afraid of death, Abigail. I am afraid that I might draw back and not be bold in proclaiming the gospel." He hesitated, then said, "And I am afraid that I might not stand firm. That under the heel of the enemy, in pain, I might deny my Lord.

Painful experiences can be used to better prepare us for heaven. You see, if we let it, even pain can shape us—make us better people—get rid of some of the ugly parts of our humanity.

Ya hurt, Joshsh?" I thought that was quite apparent, but for someone like Sam who spent a good deal of his time on the ground, perhaps it was a reasonable question.

Real joy seems to me almost as unlike security or prosperity as it is unlike agony.

God is at work in the mess. That's the message of the Bible. That's why the Bible is not pretty. That's why it's grimy, because God is working in the mess. He's working in the tears.

This world could not have been the work of an all-loving being, but that of a devil, who had brought creatures into existence in order to delight in the sight of their sufferings.

An aching tooth is better out than in. To lose a rotting member is a gain.

In terms of soul work, we dare not get rid of the pain before we have learned what it has to teach us.

The brain had its own food on which it battened, and the imagination, made grotesque by terror, twisted and distorted as a living thing by pain, danced like some foul puppet on a stand and grinned through moving masks.