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 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.

They can't hurt you unless you let them.

They can't hurt you unless you let them.

The mark of rank in nature is capacity for pain,
And the anguish of the singer marks the sweetness read more

The mark of rank in nature is capacity for pain,
And the anguish of the singer marks the sweetness of the strain.
- Sarah Williams ("Saidie"),

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.

Pain is weakness leaving the body.

Pain is weakness leaving the body.

It's odd that you can get so anesthetized by your own pain or your own problem that you don't quite read more

It's odd that you can get so anesthetized by your own pain or your own problem that you don't quite fully share the hell of someone close to you.

God is a concept by which we measure our pain.

God is a concept by which we measure our pain.

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

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