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.

When there is pain, there are no words. All pain is the same.

When there is pain, there are no words. All pain is the same.

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.

Pain is weakness leaving the body.

Pain is weakness leaving the body.

Nothing begins, and nothing ends, That is not paid with moan; For we are born in others pain And perish read more

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

The pain of the mind is worse than the pain of the body.

The pain of the mind is worse than the pain of the body.

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

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

Never a lip is curved with pain That can't be kissed into smiles again.

Never a lip is curved with pain That can't be kissed into smiles again.

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.