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.

They can't hurt you unless you let them.

They can't hurt you unless you let them.

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.

There's a pang in all rejoicing,
And a joy in the heart of pain;
And the wind read more

There's a pang in all rejoicing,
And a joy in the heart of pain;
And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens,
Are singing the selfsame strain.

It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure read more

It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience.

Loving is a feeling that brings both joy and pain to my heart. Joy from being with you, being filled read more

Loving is a feeling that brings both joy and pain to my heart. Joy from being with you, being filled with an emotion so deep and tender that no other feeling can compare. Pain from knowing that I'm so in love, that I'm more vulnerable than I've ever

And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens,
Are singing the selfsame strain.

And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens,
Are singing the selfsame strain.

You purchase pain with all that joy can give,
And die of nothing but a rage to live.

You purchase pain with all that joy can give,
And die of nothing but a rage to live.

Pain is no evil unless it conquers us.

Pain is no evil unless it conquers us.