Taking Your Pain Away Quotes

Empathy must be cultivated. The practice of empathy means taking a moment to imagine how you might behave if you were in our positions. Do not tell us how we should act if we were you; imagine how you would act if you were us. Imagine living in a society where your white skin marks you for disgust, hate, and fear. Imagine that for many moments. Only when you see black folks as we are, and image yourselves as we have to live our lives, only then will the suffering stop, the hurt cease, the pain go away. ~ Michael Eric Dyson

I knew what it felt like to have no say in who you were as a sexual being. It didn't just strip away your dignity. It stripped away everything you were: your identity, your self-respect, your pleasure. Because it was all about the pleasure of the other person take, take, taking whatever they wanted from you, even if it was uncomfortable, or caused you pain. Even if you died from it, the other person still wouldn't care, because it was all about them. ~ Jess C. Scott

The fact is, taking your honest self to God, even with all its raw emotion and blinding grief, is exactly the place you need to take it. If the alternative is to dump your anger on others, especial in the form of indirect critisism and personal attack, you'll find much less to clean up later if you just pour it out in prayer to the One who can actually do something with it. If the alternative is to stow it all away in a hidden tank deep within your heart, afraid of offending God by speaking it aloud, then you're better of releasing the valve in frank communication with your heavenly Father than cramming all that pain and suffering into tight living quarters that will never be able to hold it. ~ Frank Page

These times are hard, but I won't walk away jaded, darker, different. I feel. I cry to heal. If you saw me in those moments, maybe you'd think I was a mess. But I don't call it a mess. I call it strength.

Real strength isn't about building walls. Real strength is about staying open, no matter what. It's about taking life - with all the pleasures that fade and all the pain that sticks around for too long - and not shutting down, not closing down, not building up those walls.

Resilience isn't hard, impenetrable, iron. Resilience is flexible, soft, warm.

Stay strong. The real kind of strong. Don't let your automatic mind reflexes make you jump away from pain and towards pleasure. Make choices. See clearly. And never, ever, stop feeling.

Don't go numb. The world, even with all its horror, is too beautiful to miss. ~ Vironika Tugaleva

Most of all I hated Evie, all the more 'cause I wanted her so goddamned bad. I took another draw from my bottle to numb the pain - but not in my arm.

Just to make the night weirder, when Evie had been screaming at me, I'd seen things that couldn't be right. Like something had been . . . glowing on her face.

I shook away the thought, taking another slug.

"Why were you so mean to her, Jack? You've never been unkind to a fille a day in your life."

When I'd first seen Evie and looked into her eyes, for a split second everything in me had gone from full-on chaos to something like . . . peace. Christ, that feeling was addictive. So how was I going to live without it? "She's got me twisted up inside. ~ Kresley Cole

The pain that's created by avoiding hard work is actually much worse than any pain created from the actual work itself. Because if you don't begin to work on those ideas that God has blessed you with, they will become stagnant inside of you and eventually begin to eat away at you. You might seem OK on the outside, but inside you will be ill from not getting those ideas out of your heart and into the world. Stalling leads to sickness. But taking steps, even baby steps, always leads to success. ~ Russell Simmons

When you give me art - give me something that reaches inside of my core and twists, taking the very breath that sustains me away.
Give me something that wakens me from my lethargy.
Give me something that causes me to ponder and question all that I have come to know; due to my circumstances that I have been allotted in this life.
Give me something that causes me to question my pride and arrogance of knowing that I am right in my thoughts, beliefs and perceptions.
Shake me: as if you had grabbed me and pushed me against the wall - shattering all of my preconceived notions; causing me to break out of the box that I have put others in.
Give me something that scraped over the scar tissue of wounds that you carry within, opening them afresh and causing you pain - real core pain - pain that you had pushed down; pain that now resides in your closet of skeletons.
When you give me art, give me you, or give me nothing at all…
©2014 Suzanne Steele ~ Suzanne Steele

When there was pain or hurt, or bad memories crowded in, work could be a literal lifeline, taking your mind away from what you couldn't deal with and channeling it into something good, something tangible. ~ Alice Clayton

Almondine

To her, the scent and the memory of him were one. Where it lay strongest, the distant past came to her as if that morning: Taking a dead sparrow from her jaws, before she knew to hide such things. Guiding her to the floor, bending her knee until the arthritis made it stick, his palm hotsided on her ribs to measure her breaths and know where the pain began. And to comfort her. That had been the week before he went away.

He was gone, she knew this, but something of him clung to the baseboards. At times the floor quivered under his footstep. She stood then and nosed into the kitchen and the bathroom and the bedroom-especially the closet-her intention to press her ruff against his hand, run it along his thigh, feel the heat of his body through the fabric.

Places, times, weather-all these drew him up inside her. Rain, especially, falling past the double doors of the kennel, where he'd waited through so many storms, each drop throwing a dozen replicas into the air as it struck the waterlogged earth. And where the rising and falling water met, something like an expectation formed, a place where he might appear and pass in long strides, silent and gestureless. For she was not without her own selfish desires: to hold things motionless, to measure herself against them and find herself present, to know that she was alive precisely because he needn't acknowledge her in casual passing; that utter constancy might prevail if she attended the world ~ David Wroblewski