Pain Scream Quotes

I used to wonder why I had hair on my legs, but now I know it's for my toddler sons and daughters to pull themselves up off the ground with as I scream in pain. ~ Jim Gaffigan

One of the hardest things you'll ever do is give yourself permission to be in pain of any kind. There's a reason we have survival instincts, so that we don't die. That goes for humans, animals (redundant, I know), all the fishes in the sea, everyone. Some researchers even say that even plants feel pain and a cucumber will scream when you cut it. (And some others say that's crap because they have no brain or central nervous system.) The point is, we're all wusses. And emotional pain is the worst. ~ Anne Clendening

Out there, in the open desert, men can walk for days without passing a single house, seeing a well, for the desert is so vast that no one can know it all. Men go out into the desert, and they are like ships at sea; no one knows when they will return. Sometimes there are storms, but nothing like here, terrible storms, and the wind tears up the sand and throws it high into the sky, and the men are lost. They die, drowned in the sand, they die lost like ships in a storm, and the sand retains their bodies. Everything is so different in that land; the sun isn't the same as it is here, it burns hotter, and there are men that come back blinded, their faces burned. Nights, the cold makes men who are lost scream out in pain, the cold breaks their bones. Even the men aren't the same as they are here...they are cruel, they stalk their pray like foxes, drawing silently near. They are black, like the Hartani, dressed in blue, faces veiled. They aren't men, but djinns, children of the devil, and they deal with the devil; they are like sorcerers... ~ J M G Le Clezio

The meaning of the story is found in every detail, as well as in the broad narrative. The pain and tears of all the years were met together on Calvary. The sorrow of heaven joined with the anguish of earth; the forgiving love stored up in God's future was poured out into the present; the voices that echo in a million human hearts, crying for justice, longing for spirituality, eager for relationship, yearning for beauty, drew themselves together into a final scream of desolation. ~ N. T. Wright

The Shadow shall rise across the world, and darken every land, even to the smallest corner, and there shall be neither Light nor safety. And he who shall be born of the Dawn, born of the Maiden, according to Prophecy, he shall stretch forth his hands to catch the Shadow, and the world shall scream in the pain of salvation. All Glory be to the Creator, and to the Light, and to he sho shall be born again. May the Light save us from him.
-from Commentaries on the Karaethon Cycle Sereine dar Shamelle Motara Counsel-Sister to Comaelle, High Queen of Jaramide (circa 325 AB, the Third Age) ~ Robert Jordan

There are worse things than dying," the dude in The Lovers of Dust and Shadow says, faced with the prospect of losing his love. That line always stuck with me because of what he was saying: suffering can be worse. Pain can be worse. ~ Derek Milman

What is this thing called life? I believe
That the earth and the stars too, and the whole glittering universe, and rocks on the mountains have life,
Only we do not call it so--I speak of the life
That oxidizes fats and proteins and carbo-
Hydrates to live on, and from that chemical energy
Makes pleasure and pain, wonder, love, adoration, hatred and terror: how do these things grow
From a chemical reaction?
I think they were here already, I think the rocks
And the earth and the other planets, and the stars and the galaxies
have their various consciousness, all things are conscious;
But the nerves of an animal, the nerves and brain
Bring it to focus; the nerves and brain are like a burning-glass
To concentrate the heat and make it catch fire:
It seems to us martyrs hotter than the blazing hearth
From which it came. So we scream and laugh, clamorous animals
Born howling to die groaning: the old stones in the dooryard
Prefer silence; but those and all things have their own awareness,
As the cells of a man have; they feel and feed and influence each other, each unto all,
Like the cells of a man's body making one being,
They make one being, one consciousness, one life, one God. ~ Robinson Jeffers

How much are you lifting?"
"Seven hundred."
Alrighty then. I will just stand over here, out of your way, and hope you don't remember to kick my ass.
He grinned. "Wanna spot me?"
"No thanks. How about I just scream verbal encouragements at you?" I took a deep breath and barked, "No pain, no gain! That pain is just weakness leaving your body! Come on! Push! Push! Make that weight your bitch! ~ Ilona Andrews

So, who are they really, these hundred thousand white supremacists? They're every white guy who believed that this land was his land, made for you and me. They're every down-on-his-luck guy who just wanted to live a decent life but got stepped on, every character in a Bruce Springsteen or Merle Haggard song, every cop, soldier, auto mechanic, steelworker, and construction worker in America's small towns who can't make ends meet and wonders why everyone else is getting a break except him. But instead of becoming Tom Joad, a left-leaning populist, they take a hard right turn, ultimately supporting the very people who have dispossessed them.

They're America's Everymen, whose pain at downward mobility and whose anger at what they see as an indifferent government have become twisted by a hate that tells them they are better than others, disfigured by a resentment so deep that there are no more bridges to be built, no more ladders of upward mobility to be climbed, a howl of pain mangled into the scream of a warrior. Their rage is as sad as it is frightening, as impotent as it is shrill. ~ Michael S. Kimmel

Let go of me," I choke out, clawing blindly at Teren. The sharp tang of blood suddenly fills my nostrils, and I realize that it is from his wrists, spreading a film of scarlet around us. Somewhere ahead, the silhouette of our ship looms. We are getting closer.
"I wish I could," Teren spits, dripping venom. "There's nothing I'd like to see more than you in the Underworld, Adelina."
His words spark my fury. He never intended to finish this journey with you. Teren grips my arm again so hard that I scream in pain. He is pulling us both toward the ship, his face set in grim determination.
Then I hear him shout, "But I won't."
But I won't. My fury wavers, turning into bewilderment. ~ Marie Lu

Everyone grieves differently. No one handles the loss of a loved one the same. Some put on a brave face for others, keeping everything internal. Others let it all out at once and shatter, only to pick up the pieces just as quickly as they came apart. Still others don't grieve at all, implying they are incapable of emotion.
Then there are the ones like me, where grief is a badge we wear, where it's hard to let go because we don't want to. We probably wouldn't know how even is we wanted to. There's unanswered questions, unresolved feelings. Tere is anger that this person could even conceive of leaving us behind. We are the furious ones, the ones that scream at the injustice and the pain. We are the ones who obsess and slowly lose rational thought, knowing it is happening but unable to find a way to care. We are the ones who drown. ~ T.J. Klune

If anyone heard us, I bet they understood, because one of life's sad truths is that not all of us receive love but every single one of us knows pain. ~ Sheba Karim

There is a blinding flash, a pain that rips through me for one searing instant, a silent scream from my broken body. For the first time, I can sense how fully agonizing staying will be. ~ Gayle Forman

Julian made a noise. It was a noise Emma couldn't have described, not as human a sound as a how or a scream. It sounded like it was ripped out of the inside of him, like something brutal was tearing through his chest. He dropped the longsword Livvy had risked so much to bring him, fell to his knees and crawled to her, pulling her into his lap.
'Livvy, Livvy, my Livvy' he whispered, cradling her, feverishly stroking her blood-wet hair away from her face. There was so much blood. He was covered in it in seconds; it had soaked through Livvy's clothes, even her shoes were drenched in it. 'Livia' His hands shook; he fumbled out his stele and put it on her arm.
Emma felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. There were wounds that were beyond and iratze's power. Healing runes only vanished from skin when an occupational poison was involved--or when the person was already dead.
'Livia,' Julian's voice rose, cracking and tumbling over itself like a wave breaking too far out to sea. 'Livvy, my baby, please, sweet- heart, open your eyes it's Jules, I'm here for you, I'm always here for you, please,please--'
Blackness exploded behind Emma's eyes. The pain in her arm was gone; she felt nothing but rage. Rage that bleached everything else out of the world except the sight of Annabel cringing against the lectern, staring at Julian cradling his sister's dead body. At what she'd done. ~ Cassandra Clare

Here dwells a snake, one thousand miles long
Coiled, one thousand miles deep
Eyes like candy, it has eyes like candy
Hard and blue, but soft as kittens feet
Out of sight or in the element of light
It could be a devil, it could be an angel
With spiders inside a vision from hell
Its spine is a vertical scream
Slow as concrete, blurred as a dream
Fueled by inertia, depth, radius, and velocity,
Its soul
a twisted wreckage of despair and pain
And the spiders inside are just praying for rain
Killing time killing time
And praying for rain
One thousand miles deep ~ James O'Barr

Her paintings formed a visual diary, an outward manifestation of her inward dialog that was, all too often, a scream of pain. ~ Gerry Souter

I have only one memory of getting here, and even that is just a single image: black ink curling around the side of a neck, the corner of a tattoo, and the gentle sway that could only mean he was carrying me.
He turns off the bathroom light and gets an ice pack from the refrigerator in the corner of the room. As he walks toward me, I consider closing my eyes and pretending to be asleep,but then our eyes meet and it's too late.
"Your hands," I croak.
"My hands are none of your concern," he replies. He rests his knee on the mattress and leans over me,slipping the ice pack under my head. Before he pulls away,I reach out to touch the cut on the side of his lip but stop when I realize what I am about to do, my hand hovering.
What do you have to lose? I ask myself. I touch my fingertips lightly to his mouth.
"Tris," he says, speaking against my fingers. "I'm all right."
"Why were you there?" I ask, letting my hand drop.
"I was coming back from the control room. I heard a scream."
"What did you do to them?" I say.
"I deposited Drew at the infirmary a half hour ago," he says. "Peter and Al ran. Drew claimed they were just trying to scare you.At least,I think that's what he was trying to say."
"He's in bad shape?"
"He'll live," he replies. He adds bitterly, "In what condition, I can't say."
It isn't right to wish pain on other people just because they hurt me first. But white-hot triumph races through me at the thought of Drew ~ Veronica Roth

She dropped the things she was holding and desperately grabbed onto the table for support, but not before she hit the dresser directly with her stomach. The collision was hard. She expected pain. She expected to scream out. She expected to curdle up on the floor and whimper in agony.

But she didn't.

She gasped when she saw that due to the impact, the dresser had a minuscule dent. She didn't even feel the hit. ~ Deepika Kumaaraguru

It's not wrong to be upset. It's not wrong to cry. It's not wrong to want attention. It's not even wrong to scream or throw a fit. What is wrong is to keep it all inside. What is wrong is to blame and punish yourself for simply being human. What is wrong is to never be heard and to be alone in your pain. Share it. Let it out. ~ Bryant H. McGill

It's okay to hurt. It's okay to cry. It's okay to ask questions (even of God.) It's okay to yell and scream and feel and even cuss if you need to. It's okay to be right where you're at, without trying to frantically search for the purpose that will come from your pain or the message that will come from your mess. I'm finding that some pain doesn't serve a purpose. Sometimes pain is just pain…and we can let it be just that. We can feel it without trying to heal it. We can bring our fists down hard on all the feel-good, sing-song, empty platitudes and send the pieces scattering right along with the shattered pieces of our hearts. WE CAN. ~ Mandy Hale

I make my guitar scream with pain or pleasure or sensuality. It makes people move their feet and shake their bodies. That's what music does. ~ Dick Dale

She swallowed and licked her lips. "It's rather good."
He laughed breathlessly. Have care, part of his brain whispered. This way only leads to pain. But his c*ck was pressing hard against the placket of his breeches and he wanted to take her hand and draw her away to his rooms and keep her there until she learned to scream in pleasure.
Until she screamed his name and no other. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Just give him the medicine!" I scream at her. "Give it to him! Who are you, anyway, to decide how much pain he can stand! ~ Suzanne Collins

And then came the pain. First in her leg, as if something had sunk its teeth into it. A huge beast, a dog, maybe. It locked its jaws onto her limb and tore at the muscles with its teeth. She screamed, that was all she could do, scream. She could not describe the feeling of having her body ripped apart. She remembered her father's despair, his face as he leaned over her bed, and his words: What is it, tell me, what is it? As she writhed in pain, soaked in her own sweat, Don Guillermo, her kind, good father, waited for her to tell him. For an explanation. A meaningful verbalization of this horror, so that he could understand what was happening to his child. Otherwise, how could he help her? Because her frenzied cries were not enough. Pain needs to be articulated, communicated. It needs a kind of dialogue. It needs words. But only screams and shrieks of pain escaped from the child's lips. ~ Slavenka Drakulic

Gavin is just a kid. He hasn't figured out yet how cruel life can be. How it can take everything from you, dig in its sharp teeth and not let go. He still has hope. I can't tarnish that. ~ Derek Milman

This is an ode to all of those that have never asked for one.
A thank you in words to all of those that do not do
what they do so well for the thanking.
This is to the mothers.
This is to the ones who match our first scream
with their loudest scream; who harmonize in our shared pain
and joy and terrified wonder when life begins.
This is to the mothers.
To the ones who stay up late and wake up early and always know
the distance between their soft humming song and our tired ears.
To the lips that find their way to our foreheads and know,
somehow always know, if too much heat is living in our skin.
To the hands that spread the jam on the bread and the mesmerizing
patient removal of the crust we just cannot stomach.
This is to the mothers.
To the ones who shout the loudest and fight the hardest and sacrifice
the most to keep the smiles glued to our faces and the magic
spinning through our days. To the pride they have for us
that cannot fit inside after all they have endured.
To the leaking of it out their eyes and onto the backs of their
hands, to the trails of makeup left behind as they smile
through those tears and somehow always manage a laugh.
This is to the patience and perseverance and unyielding promise
that at any moment they would give up their lives to protect ours.
This is to the mothers.
To the single mom's working four jobs to put the cheese i ~ Tyler Knott Gregson

Part of his mind was screaming, but it was a distant one and easy to ignore. ~ James S.A. Corey

Our Lord shouts and screams;
his tears fall from heaven and spring the streams ~ John E. Wordslinger

Let it hurt. Pick those flowers on your lungs and let it wither. Let your heart stop beating for someone who doesn't deserves it. Let yourself be burn to your worst degree. Fall right down on your knees and scream the damn pain inside you. You've let the love to do its work, let it hurt. That's part of its work.
Let it bleed. Let the tears roll down your face. For once, allow yourself to be an artist. Let your mouth bleed with the unspoken feelings you've been wanting to say and be the author of your own story. Let the abstract in you be seen by the people who are doubting you. Do not cut your wrist, blood and scar might ruin your skin. I know, your heart was cut by the words they've stabbed on you, let it bleed with poetry and speak for yourself.
Let it heal. For how many times people could've told you that time heals. Let me now tell you that it's you, and you only, who could heal yourself. You could pick your broken pieces and build a better and stronger you. Let it heal, not for anyone. Let it heal for yourself. Even for once, let it be for yourself.
And let it go. Snap out of the darkness you're in right now. Let go of the pain that's stopping you from moving forward. Let the toxic people go, you could've been better without them. Stop holding on to the anchor. Stop drowning yourself from sadness. You could always be happy. Just learn to let go of the things that keep you away from that possibility, just let go. ~ Angela Diloy

There is no lie. The world is presented as it is. Nothing is concealed, except for perhaps the identity of the Creator, which is not so much a lie as it is a reasonable omission. No view is, however, disguised. No composition of the natural landscape is purposefully twisted or deformed so as to deliberately deceive, and no function of the natural world is dressed in sweet deception. No scream is muffled, no laceration sanitised, and the pain of hunger and thirst are naked for all to see and be sickened by. Diseases of every ghastly flavour are on loathsome display, the blights of parasitism are laid bare, and the crippling agonies of old age are public property. The terror of predation is revealed in every anguished look, the fear of infanticide written on every mother's face, and the misery of earthquakes, landslides, cyclones, floods, volcanoes, tsunamis, droughts, heat waves, and wild fires conferred uncensored upon stunned and appropriately intimidated audiences. ~ John Zande

Tristan?"
He turned his face to me, and it was streaked with tears. I wanted to wipe them away, tell him that everything would be all right, but my body was locked stiff with pain.
"Promise me you'll get better," he whispered. "Tell me you'll grow strong again. That you'll gallop on horseback through summer meadows. Dance in spring rains and let snowflakes melt on your tongue in winter. That you'll travel wherever the wind takes you. That you'll live." He stroked my hair. "Promise me."
Confusion crept over me. "You'll be with me, though. You'll do those things too?"
He kissed my lips, silencing my questions. "Promise me."
"No," I said, struggling against him.. "No, you said you were coming with me. You said. You promised." He had to be coming with me - he said he was and Tristan couldn't lie. Wouldn't lie.
He got to his feet and stepped into the water. I tried to struggle, but he was too strong. "Tristian, no, no, no!" I tried to scream, but I couldn't. I tried to hold on to him, but my fingers wouldn't work. The cold of the water bit into my skin and I sobbed, terrified. "You said you would never leave me!"
He stopped, the weight of his sorrow greater than any mountain. "And if I had the choice, I never would. I love you, Cécile. I will love you until the day I take my last breath and that is the truth. " He kissed me hard. "Forgive me. ~ Danielle L. Jensen

It was a scream, but it was also something like a song, too. It was like all the pain and sorrow in the world was being dredged up from the bottom of the earth and was twisting itself into a horrible, tortured melody. ~ Danielle Paige

Now now Ellindt, you know I love it when you beg." Chuckling silently, every jolt from my hold causes her hands pulsating pain, and I bend to speak intimately into her ear again, "But I love it more when you scream. ~ Poppet

I'm told women scream when they give birth because of the intense pain. And I think about how easily life can just slide away, like thawing ice. And how it's only the living that scream. ~ Peter Hedges

I didn't really understand that Vipassana is a relatively new form of Buddhism that was based on the storage of pain. So the idea is that every time you don't scream, that's your Buddhist side. ~ Laurie Anderson

Trauma is personal. It does not disappear if it is not validated. When it is ignored or invalidated the silent screams continue internally heard only by the one held captive. ~ Danielle Bernock

Names are important," she said, twirling the cord. "Mine is Ojka, and I have orders to keep you out." Beyond the doors, Kell let out a scream of frustration, a sob of pain. "My name is Lila Bard," she answered, drawing her favorite knife, "and I don't give a damn." Ojka ~ V.E Schwab

Her time has come," answered Miss Lizzie. "That's why I didn't marry Harvey - long ago when he asked me. I was afraid of 'that'. So afraid." "I don't know," Miss Lizzie said. "Sometimes I think it's better to suffer bitter unhappiness and to fight and to scream out, and even to suffer that terrible pain, than just to be safe." She waited until the next scream died away. "At least she knows she's living. ~ Betty Smith

Another analogy: imagine if you were walking down the street and every few minutes someone would punch you in the arm. You don't know who will be punching you, and you don't know why. You are hurt and wary and weary. You are trying to protect yourself, but you can't get off this street. Then imagine somebody walks by, maybe gesticulating wildly in interesting conversation, and they punch you in the arm on accident. Now imagine that this is the last straw, that this is where you scream. That person may not have meant to punch you in the arm, but the issue for you is still the fact that people keep punching you in the arm. Regardless of why that last person punched you, there's a pattern that needs to be addressed, and your sore arm is testimony to that. But what often happens instead is that people demand that you prove that each person who punched you in the arm in the past meant to punch you in the arm before they'll acknowledge that too many people are punching you in the arm. The real tragedy is that you get punched in the arm constantly, not that one or two people who accidentally punched you in the arm might be accused of doing it on purpose. They still contributed to the pain that you have endured - a pain bigger than that one punch - and they are responsible for being a part of that, whether they meant to or not. ~ Ijeoma Oluo

I wrap my mind around pain till it smothers in its own scream. (101) ~ Sylvia Fraser

Submit in silence and scream from within.
Or...
Stand up and shout and silence the pain. ~ Anthony T. Hincks

When she treads on my grave and feels as if she's trampling on that doting old man's bones, my spirit will still be alive, feeling the whole weight of her body, feeling pain, feeling the fine-grained velvety smoothness of the soles of her feet. Even after I'm dead I'll be aware of that. I can't believe I won't. In the same way, Satsuko will be aware of the presence of my spirit, joyfully enduring her weight. Perhaps she may even hear my charred bones rattling together, chuckling, moaning, creaking. And that would by no means occur only when she was actually stepping on my grave. At the very thought of those Buddha's Footprints modeled after her own feet she would hear my bones wailing under the stone. Between sobs I would scream: It hurts! It hurts! ... Even though it hurts, I'm happy - I've never been more happy, I'm much, much happier than when I was alive! ... Trample harder! Harder! ~ Junichiro Tanizaki

His scream was more of a roar, pouring out of him in a great torrent. Screaming for his loss, venting his pain. ~ Phillip W. Simpson

Cooper had been at a scene once where a car had collided with an agent and pinned him against a metal barrier, shattering everything from the ribs down, severing both legs at midthigh. Massive physical damage, unsurvivable. What had haunted him most, though, was that the man was calm. He didn't scream, didn't seem to feel any pain. Some wounds were too enormous to feel. ~ Marcus Sakey

She screamed. Not a normal scream of pain, but a deep and blind cry as reason deserted her. Of all the screams cataloged in the encyclopedic audio library of the Hidden Schools, Tara's bore the closest resemblance to the scream of a man whose abdomen was being devoured by a jagged-clawed insect that wore a child's face. ~ Max Gladstone

And I put my hand on her arm to stop her rowing.
Aaron's Noise roars up in red and black.
The current takes us on.
"I'm sorry!" I cry as the river takes us away, my words ragged things torn from me, my chest pulled so tight I can't barely breathe. "I'm sorry, Manchee!"
"Todd?" he barks, confused and scared and watching me leave him behind. "Todd?"
"Manchee!" I scream.
Aaron brings his free hand towards my dog.
"MANCHEE!"
"Todd?"
And Aaron wrenches his arms and there's a CRACK and a scream and a cut-off yelp that tears my heart in two forever and forever.
And the pain is too much it's too much it's too much and my hands are on my head and I'm rearing back and my mouth is open in a never-ending wordless wail of all the blackness that's inside of me. ~ Patrick Ness

Breath (from the book Blue Bridge)

Whispering to myself
With every step I take,
Trying out names, for I know
There is something yet to be called …..

I know it, something up ahead
Just around the bend
Or over the rise –
A bird taking to the sky
From the edge of a jagged cliff –
A bird floating outwards
In silence ……. A silence
Waiting for a footstep
To crunch on stones,
For a voice to fling upward
Through sharp sunlight
With a name…… calling
Before the bird could call
Before the bird called.

Oh the bird was there alright
And sure it took flight
When it heard me approach
But it broke my heart
With a mighty croak!

So I'm sitting here playing
With a purple flower
Slender stem, no leaves
Purple fizz –

And it's quiet again.
I am still
I am nothing
And the hill
Is a long, long slope
Down, down, down to the sea
Far below.

I could roll
I could run
I could scream
But I am nothing.

A cool wind blows
And the light is naked and nameless
And the rocks are faces of angels
And the bird in the sky wheels
And cries to forget the earth
And its ancient bones –
Oh, sensual pain –
Wings…. Wings…. Wings,
Singing wings.

If only I could begin
To describe the emptiness
Which fills me to the brim
With n ~ Jay Woodman

giving an explanation of why I cut was tough. I didn't even really understand why I did it. I took a deep breath. "Well...when I cut the skin, and feel the pain...and see the blood-it's like I'm letting out this loud scream. ~ J.A. Templeton

We fill the slaughterhouses daily with screams of fear and pain. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

A ghost doesn't just move normally. They have this freaky way of zipping across the room. You see the ghost, you blink, and then it's suddenly behind you or up in your face and you scream and dig your nails into your boyfriend's knee and the he has marks there for like a week and I hope you're putting out for all that goddamn pain you put him through when you were the one who picked the movie even when you knew it was going to be scary. ~ Dennis Liggio

Make me howl, make me scream,
Things are never what they seem.
Lay me out, end the pain,
Now I'll never be the same.
Deep inside, there I cry,
Yet you still just pass me by.
Can't you see, this is me,
And I'm Howling! I'm Howling! I'm Howling! ~ Lisa Kessler

Nothing, until the ground comes up to meet you, and you land in a jumble of pain and shattered bones; and the scream you didn't think you had in you scrapes your throat raw as you let it out - like the first, shocked breath of a baby newly born into a universe of suffering. ~ Aliette De Bodard

You're reaching out
And no one hears you cry
You're freaking out again
'Cause all your fears
Remind you another dream has come undone
You feel so small and lost like you're the only one
You wanna scream 'cause you're
Desperate
You want somebody, just anybody
To lay their hands on your soul tonight
You want a reason to keep believin'
That someday you're gonna see the light
You're in the dark
There's no one left to call
And sleep's your only friend
Well even sleep
Can't hide you from all those tears
And all the pain and all the days
You wasted pushin' them away
It's your life, it's time you face it ~ David Archuleta

And what is love, Angel? What is love! he yelled. Is it a pressure inside that makes me want to scream when you do this? he palmed his chest roughly, Is it my body in constant chaos when you're around me? Is it murder in cold blood when I even think of you being with anybody but me! he roared. Or maybe it's not being able to think or speak when your life is in danger, or wanting to spend every second - of every - fucking day with you, wanting to never leave your side. Is that love? Is it, Isadore? He drew closer and hit his fist repeatedly against his chest. Is it pain so hard and heavy that I can't fucking breathe unless I smell you, touch you, taste you? His body heaved as his bright green gaze seared her heart. Because if it is, Angel...he held his lips together and shook his head slowly, then I am....slain with an eternal and violent love for you. ~ Lucian Bane

With that Nox turned a knob. There was a delay, but that was how the machine worked. First it gathered information about the subject, feeling, sensing - like a fighter in a ring, circling his opponent.
Kaleb sensed it, too. It was as if a doctor palpated his flesh, pushing his skin. It tingled gently. The tingling surged through his whole body. Was this it? Kaleb thought. Visions from his past shot through his brain. His mother. Father. Zenobia. Joan and Reck. The Three Musketeers. Pleasant memories.
Then the machine found what it searched for, and it acted. Waves of pain shot through his entire body, causing him to arch his back. He screamed in agony, his screams reverberating across the canyon. Then all of his muscles constricted. He couldn't breathe, couldn't even scream. It seemed to last forever. It stopped, and his muscles relaxed, allowing him to breath. ~ Cate Campbell Beatty

What 'next level' I wanted to scream! The level of sleepless nights and zero disposable income? Is being constantly tired and borderline broke supposed to make us more in love or something? And what makes you think that as a couple we haven't already reached that level of pain and anxiety? Perhaps we did it without having kids! Maybe that is how fabulous we are. Did anyone think of that? ~ Radhika Vaz

When everyone failed to hear my screams, you are the only one who heard my silence. ~ Akshay Vasu

I explode. "I FUCKING LOVE HER!" I scream, my heart thrashing in my ribs.
His mouth falls, his brows furrowing in confusion the longer he scrutinizes my features. I feel like he's clawing at my insides for answers.
Here they are. "I fell in fucking love with her. It hurt to be away from Daisy. It hurt to watch her with other guys. Everything fucking hurt, and I didn't want to live with that pain anymore. I fucking couldn't." I inhale deeply. "I can't tell you when it became unbearable, but it did ~ Becca Ritchie

There's a scream that can't be silenced.It's rising, growing louder and louder. It's the scream of a child abandoned, suddenly long ago. As the scream echoed then in that alley, it echoes now in my mind. It penetrates all the dark places. It slams into the loss, bounces against the regret.. and the pain. ~ Tom Taylor

Now, what is unique about the child's perception of the world? For one thing, the extreme confusion of cause-and-effect relationships; for another, extreme unreality about the limits of his own powers. The child lives in a situation of utter dependence; and when his needs are met it must seem to him that he has magical powers, real omnipotence. If he experiences pain, hunger, or discomfort, all he has to do is to scream and he is relieved and lulled by gentle, loving sounds. He is a magician and a telepath who has only to mumble and to imagine and the world turns to his desires. ~ Ernest Becker

They lift their axes and slice through Raffe's wing joints. They . . . . . his wings . . . I don't know if Raffe yells out in his pain, because all I hear is my own scream. Raffe falls. ~ Susan Ee

Pain flared in his lower back - so sharp and cold he thought Khione the snow goddess had touched him. Next to his ear, Michael Varus snarled, "Born a Roman, die a Roman." The tip of a golden sword jutted through the front of Jason's shirt, just below his rib cage. Jason fell to his knees. Piper's scream sounded miles away. He felt like he'd been immersed in salty water - his body weightless, his head swaying. ~ Rick Riordan

Are you ready to possess your master piece; ready to live a life that is worthy of who you were made to be? You will likely shed a few tears - tears of joy, tears of pain, tears of revelation - you might scream out loud and laugh out loud. You might even stomp your feet, shake your fist or pound the air. That's okay, because later on you might just run out and hug a stranger, love an enemy and sing like never before as well. ~ J. Loren Norris

Silence is a cage. These words are my keys. ~ Jenim Dibie

An endless scream pierced the frigid night air and shook the world with its rage and sorrow. The aged stone and brick that had withstood the great quake over a hundred years ago now trembled before its pain, and even the austere grimace of the lonely grotesque, its only witness, softened in pity. ~ Ava Zavora

I don't know whether to cry or scream or do both. It feels like I've done more than enough of both. And it feels like I haven't done enough.

And at some point, I know I'm going to have to crawl out of this bed and pick up the pieces but right now, it can be just me. Just me, these four walls, and this bed.

The universe doesn't have to exist outside this bedroom, and that's perfectly okay. ~ Mason Deaver

My heart beats for him.
The man who shares my secret. The man who holds my life in the palm of his hands. Sometimes, I think I could love him. But most of the time, I just hate him. For making me weak. For tempting me to stay. For wondering when he'll finally make good and kill me too.
I don't know how it's possible to have feelings that are such polar opposites. I want to slap him. I want to scream in his face and force him to acknowledge me. His cavalier attitude towards me is worse than any of the pain Blaine ever inflicted on me. I'm not even worth his attention. A moment of his time. And yet, when he walks into the room, everything else ceases to exist. ~ A. Zavarelli

The more you kick and scream, bite, scratch and try to run away, the darker the skies will get. You cannot run away from your pain and you cannot outrun the storm. By embracing your pain and bringing it within to heal, you empower your own growth. Accept what is, what was, and what is yet to come. This is the path to inner peace. ~ L.J. Vanier

It is an ocean of burning oil I am cast adrift upon, no sea's repose; I pass from waking agonies ... to the semiconscious trance of torment in which the smaller, earlier, deeper rings of the brain know only that the nerves scream, the body aches, and there is no one to turn crying to for comfort. ~ Iain Banks

I remember one time I heard this English professor asking the class what the world's scariest noise is. Is it a man crying out in pain? A woman's scream of terror? A gunshot? A baby crying? And the professor shakes his head and says, 'No, the scariest noise is, you're all alone in your dark house, you know you're all alone, you know that there is no chance anyone else is home or within miles - and then, suddenly, from upstairs, you hear the toilet flush. ~ Harlan Coben

Majesty,
A frozen swamp. Icicles on branches and uprooted trees. That was our crystal palace, once upon a time. I was your king and you were my queen. I promised you I'd always try to give you your desires. I meant that. And since you wanted Derek, I tried to get him for you. I tried to get Derek to see how beautiful, sweet and amazing you are, in spite of myself, in spite of my rending heart. He never saw you the way I did, and you never saw me at all. I thought maybe if I found love with someone else, I'd be rid of my feelings for you, but that empty relationship only made me long for you more. I've offered you the most support and devotion a person can give an unwanting heart, but all I get in return are your mocking advances, which blatantly scream and reiterate the fact that you'll never love me. It's been so excruciating to be around you lately. You're always teasing me, and it kills me. That's why I've been so irritable and angry. It's inconceivable to me how you could think I'd EVER hurt you, when all I've been living for is to try and make you happy. Well, I'm done. Your doubt has caused me more pain than anything I've ever known. I always thought we'd be life-long friends, but this fairytale has no happy ending. The crystal has shattered. I can't be your king anymore. Then again, I never really was. I've always been the lowly jester. And everyone knows a fool can never be with a queen.

Goodbye, Alec ~ Courtney Vail

You don't scream when You know its worthless, your scream will bounce back to you as he doesn't even care about it. ~ Asmara Rizvi

Ralph started to scream in pain. Not that 'stubbed your toe' sort of pain, but more a kind of 'detached kneecap' kind of pain, only with seven simultaneous childbirths, neuralgia, and a tooth abscess all mixed in as well, for good luck. The sort you hope you never get to experience. ~ Jasper Fforde

But when I do feel all the strength go out of me, and I fall to my knees beside the table and I think I cry, then, or at least I want to, and everything inside me screams for just one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more. ~ Veronica Roth

A child screams with joy and a child screams with pain, and the difference is in the timbre of that scream. Decibels of joy strike the inner ear differently from those of pain. ~ Fred D'Aguiar

If I could put back the pieces and make them right,I'd turn back the hands of time with all my might.You'd never think that things went wrong.If I took the pain away and if I say that you complete me in every single way.If I shout it from the clouds above for everyone to hear.Could you ever believe me?If I whisper to you sweetly,you say you need a reason. But I've never gone astray.Now if I can once again persuade you
to say yes to me today.There is just one more question left for me to ask before we throw it all away.What do you say?Please say yes to me today
I gave you my heart, placed it in your hands for our dreams of tomorrow, just like we planned together as one for the rest of our days.But If I'd only showed instead of told you,I would have taken this doubt away.If I scream it from the sky above so everyone is sure to know.Could you ever believe me?If I whisper to you sweetly,you cry out you need a reason.But we've never gone astray.Now if I can once again persuade you to say yes to me today
If you give me your hand, I'll wrap it in golden bands for a long future together, I'd be a happy man.I'll hold you forever as our story unfolds by my side.You've been my only lover, let the truth be told.
If I scream it from the sky above so everyone is sure to know.Could you ever believe me?If I whisper to you sweetly If I say I am your reason and our love will light our way.Now if I can once again persuade you to say yes to me today.There is just one more que ~ Tina Reber

You are working up to Mr. Fantastic Fiction levels of Zombie Expert, which is like playing Guitar Hero on some level that actually melts the guitar controller, burning your fingers with searing hot plastic till you scream in pain. Only with words. And zombies. ~ Libba Bray

There will be pain." (Qyburn)
"I'll scream." (Jaime Lannister)
"A great deal of pain." (Qyburn)
"I'll scream very loudly." Jaime Lannister) ~ George R R Martin

Then I laughed. It was this sick reflex - to laugh. But that was what people did, right? When they couldn't cry or scream because they couldn't feel enough to do either of those? They laughed. It was what happened to those too numb for pain, who instead sensed only a tickle. They laughed. ~ Laney Wylde

In this land
I have made myself sick with silence
In this land
I have wandered, lost
In this land
I hunkered down to see
What will become of me.
In this land
I held myself tight
So as not to scream.
-But I did scream, so loud
That this land howled back at me
As hideously
As it builds its houses.
In this land
I have been sown
Only my head sticks
Defiant, out of the earth
But one day it too will be mown
Making me, finally
Of this land.
-Charlie's poem ~ Anna Funder

They told me the drugs would take away the pain.
They told me the drugs would help me sleep.
They are wrong. The pain of losing Damien hasn't gone away. And I hardly ever sleep.
There's a part of me that wishes I could close my eyes and shut out the world, but I can't. I can't because I know behind my eyelids, I'll see him. He'll be there looking so fresh and alive. His skin will be vibrant with color, his blue blue eyes sparkling. He'll flash me his radiant smile and for a few minutes, I'll actually believe that he didn't die.
I'll believe it and then I wake up to discover that my mind is torturing me with what could have been and I lose control of my emotions.
I scream.
Sob.
Hug my knees to my chest.
Rock back and forth.
Tug at my hair.
I pace the length of my shoebox room and throw myself into the padded white walls. I pray for someone or something to come along and take the pain away. I pray for someone or something to erase my memory so that I'll never have to think of Damien again. And so that I'll never have to live with the painful reminder that I am the reason he died.
Damien died for me.
And for love.
And I'm not quite sure what else.
Maybe to prove a point. ~ Lauren Hammond

Challenge yourself by doing things that hurt, on purpose. Have a willpower practice, such as very hard exercise, meditation, endurance, or cold showers. Choose something that makes your brain scream with how hard it is, and try to tolerate it. The goal isn't just to get used to it. It's to understand that pain is something you can survive. ~ Julien Smith

C. S. Lewis introduced the phrase "pain, the megaphone of God." "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains," he said; "it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."3 The word megaphone is apropos, because by its nature pain shouts. When I stub my toe or twist an ankle, pain loudly announces to my brain that something is wrong. Similarly, the existence of suffering on this earth is, I believe, a scream to all of us that something is wrong. It halts us in our tracks and forces us to consider other values. ~ Philip Yancey

There was about Alexandra something of the impervious calm of the fatalist, always disconcerting to very young people, who cannot feel that the heart lives at all unless it is still at the mercy of storms; unless its strings can scream to the touch of pain. ~ Willa Cather

Am I better off living through death,
Or dying an invisible ghost?
Am I better off speaking in silence,
Or screaming so loud no one will hear?
I fake a smile,
But it's killed by you,
I fake a soul,
But that dies, too.
So I fake my life,
What else can I do?
Take me in, spit me out,
And I scream and scream and shout,
But you can't hear my pain,
My blood's nothing but a worthless stain.
I fake a smile,
But it's killed by you.
I fake a soul,
But that dies, too.
So I fake my life,
What else can I do?
And if one day I wake up gone,
Maybe people will see through,
But until then the lies will rule.
And sometimes I think
I'm better off dead,
But then I realize
I already am. ~ Olivia Rivers

I'm just following the Irish tradition of songwriting, the Irish way of life, the human way of life. Cram as much pleasure into life, and rail against the pain you have to suffer as a result. Or scream and rant with the pain, and wait for it to be taken away with beautiful pleasure ... ~ Shane MacGowan

I can fairly say it was the first time in my new life that I really wished I wasn't supernatural: if I had been human the pain would have stopped because I would be dead. II can only describe it as what a person would feel if he somehow, by some terrible miracle, survived the fall off a skyscraper. It was the feeling of every single nerve, bone, sinew, and cell breaking and howling in agony at the same time. A person might have one second of conscious agony before he saw the white light, one brief insight into what the word "disintegrated" really meant. But I had to sit, blinking at her while this happened. I couldn't get up or down or scream or vomit the way a visibly injured person might. I sat there. ~ Candice Raquel Lee

Hunched down in the small bright room Nel waited. Waited for the oldest cry. A scream not for others, not in sympathy for a burnt child, or a dead father, but a deeply personal cry for one's own pain. A loud, strident: 'Why me?' She waited. ~ Toni Morrison

For shit's sake, it wasn't like there was a twelve-step for being the Scribe Virgin's kid:
Hi, I'm Vishous. I'm her son and I've been her son for three hundred years.
HI, VISHOUS.
She's done a head job on me again, and I'm trying not to go to the Other Side and scream bloody murder at her.
WE UNDERSTAND, VISHOUS.
And on the bloody note, I'd like to dig up my father and kill him all over again, but I can't. So I'm just going to try to keep my sister alive even though she's paralyzed, and attempt to fight the urge to find some pain so I can deal with this Payne.
YOU'RE A STRAIGHT-UP PUSSY, VISHOUS, BUT WE SUPPORT YOUR SORRY ASS. ~ J.R. Ward

I can still hear the screams. They wake me in the night. Terrible, gut wrenching, painful screams; screams that can only come from the deepest and darkest recesses of the mind. These were not screams of pain. These were screams of years of sorrow and despair. These were screams that made your skin crawl. These were the worst screams I have ever heard. I cannot get them out of my head. Perhaps, they will be with me forever. I shouldn't be so lucky. ~ Jamie Schoffman

The Fever Bird

The fever bird sand out last night.
I could not sleep, try as I might.

My brain was split, my spirit raw.
I looked into the garden, saw

The shadow of the amaltas
Shake slightly on the moonlit grass

Unseen, the bird cried out its grief,
Its lunacy, without relief:

Three notes repeated closer, higher,
Soaring, then sinking down like fire

Only to breathe the night and soar,
As crazed, as desperate, as before.

I shivered in the midnight heat
And smelt the sweat that soaked my sheet.

And now tonight I hear again
The call that skewers though my brain,

The call, the brain-sick triple note--
A cone of pain stuck inits throat.

I am so tired I could weep.
Mad bird, for God's sake let me sleep

Why do you cry like one possessed?
When will you rest? When will you rest?

Why wait each night till all but I
Lie sleeping in the house, then cry?

Why do you scream into my ear
What no one else but I can hear? ~ Vikram Seth

I want it all to go away. I want to go away. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be in this suspended state where I can see what's happening, where I'm aware of what I'm feeling without being able to actually feel it. I cannot scream until my throat hurts or break a window with my fist until my hand bleeds, or pull my hair out in clumps until the pain in my scalp overcomes the one in my heart. ~ Gayle Forman

Her screams are heard across generations who dared not scream
and died without joy,in silence and isolation. ~ David W. Earle

I want to slap him.
Curse him.
Scream at him.
Slap him some more.
I want to reach a hand into his chest and squeeze that life-sustaining organ until he collapses from the lack of blood flow and the agonizing pain pummeling his heart until it's scarcely beating.
I want him to hurt so badly that he can barely breathe while strips tear from his heart.
I want him to feel everything I'm feeling.
To hurt as much as I do.
I want all that.
But I can't convince myself it's the truth.
Because I love him too much.
I don't want him to hurt like that. ~ Siobhan Davis

Scream silently in your prayer; remember the pain of others. ~ Megan McKenna

I'm not gong to kill you, said Locke
I'm going to play a little game I like to call 'Scream in pain until you answer my fucking questions. ~ Scott Lynch

Give it to me, she wanted to scream. Give me the pain. Let me take it from you. ~ Veronica Rossi

We're gonna get high, high, high, when we're low. The fires burn from better days. She scream why, oh why? I said I don't know! ~ Billie Joe Armstrong

I hate the night, the awful night!
It muzzles the scream of pain, it rolls the spin of woes,
and the waves of the night are sweeping the town serving none
but the ill-fated ones.

The masquerade of time,
what does it conceal in its twists?
Agony and more in that night of bore.

The night, what a night!
A night of endless sighs and cries!

I hate the night, that awful night,
and I see no light, no hope for dawn, no peace in sight,
nothing but to suffer from the turmoil.

The night of pain!
The night of shame!
The untamed night of the wickedest symphonies! ~ Noha Alaa El-Din

A writer's greatest pain is reading his own words that once meant everything but as time slid, became a hollow shell of what they used to be. It is like watching your babies blooming and then withering to death in your lifetime. You still love them but the pain outweighs that love until both fade slowly into forgotten memories. You move on but every once in a while something evokes your words, your babies, unburies them from a supposedly forgotten past. And everytime, your insides scream from agony, begging your heart to let go. "I can't", the heart whispers but "I'll share the pain", he adds. ~ Ahmed Ghrib