I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.
People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it.
Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain.
One word Frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love.
A mighty pain to love it is, And 'tis a pain that pain to miss; But, of all pains, the greatest pain Is to love, but love in vain.
People who say "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" never felt a broken heart.
Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.
Grief is the price we pay for love.
Why love, if losing hurts so much? I have no answers anymore: only the life I have lived... The pain now is part of the happiness then.
Pains of love be sweeter far than all other pleasures are.
Grief. The pain now is part of the happiness then. That's the deal.
There is one pain, I often feel, which you will never know. It's caused by the absence of you.
So it's true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.
And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread.
I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.
Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.
You send me all these roses. Every time I think the last bouquet has arrived, finally, another turns up. I’m running out of vases. I didn’t know roses came in so many colors. You say they’re the perfect symbols of love because they have thorns and love is pain. I say life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something. And you don’t get it. You say you love me, but you don’t speak my language. You don’t even realize I’m an orchid girl.
You are full of love. You love with all of your soul. It's brighter than the fire ... blinding. That's why you pull away from it ... Love is pain ... Love ... give ... forgive. Risk the pain. It is your nature.
Every love outside of HIS love, is pain.
or simply:
