Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.
from the poem
The Cotter’s Saturday Night.

Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.
from the poem
The Cotter’s Saturday Night.

Pain is no longer pain when it is past.

Pain is no longer pain when it is past.

Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.

Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.

The pain and hurt which i feel,
go as deep as it is real;
to be around and read more

The pain and hurt which i feel,
go as deep as it is real;
to be around and yet unseen,
takes the water out of the steam.

Pain adds rest unto pleasure, and teaches the luxury of health.

Pain adds rest unto pleasure, and teaches the luxury of health.

Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.

Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.

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

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

There is purpose in pain,
Otherwise it were devilish.

There is purpose in pain,
Otherwise it were devilish.

Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning;
One pain is less'ned by another's anguish;
Turn giddy, read more

Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning;
One pain is less'ned by another's anguish;
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
One desperate grief cures with another's languish.