Kiss a lover, Dance a measure, Find your name And buried treasure. Face your life, It's pain, It's pleasure, Leave no path untaken.

Remembering. Forgetting. I'm not sure which is worse.

When you feel someone else's pain and joy as powerfully as if it were your own, then you know you really loved them.

Everyone always wants to know how you can tell when it's true love, and the answer is this: when the pain doesn't fade and the scars don't heal, and it's too damned late.

my mother, poor fish,wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times aweek, telling me to be happy: Henry, smile!why don't you ever smile?and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was thesaddest smile I ever saw

Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.

Pain is a pleasure in disguise.

There is a pleasure that is born of pain.

The least pain in our little finger gives us more pain and uneasiness than the destruction of millions of our fellow beings.

Faint is the bliss, that never past thro' pain.

Laugh and the world laughs with you. Stub your toe and the world laughs whether you do or not.

... one fire burns out another's burning. One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.

Sooner or later, even the sharpest pain became flattened.

God can use a sensitive Christian to be a rich blessing in the life of one who knows pain and sorrow.

Nearly everyone has his box of secret pain ...

It seemed to me a matter of course that we should all take our share of the burden of pain which lies upon the world.

Learn the lesson of your own pain.

Nothing begins, and nothing ends, That is not paid for with moan; For we are born in other's pain, And perish in our own.

Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.

Behind joy and laughter there may be a temperament, coarse, hard, and callous. But behind sorrow there is always sorrow. Pain, unlike pleasure, wears no mask.