Knowledge by suffering entereth,
And life is perfected by Death.

Knowledge by suffering entereth,
And life is perfected by Death.

We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it in full.

We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it in full.

Now it seems to me that love of some kind is the only possible explanation of the extraordinary amount of read more

Now it seems to me that love of some kind is the only possible explanation of the extraordinary amount of suffering that there is in the world.

What is deservedly suffered must be borne with calmness, but when
the pain is unmerited, the grief is resistless.
read more

What is deservedly suffered must be borne with calmness, but when
the pain is unmerited, the grief is resistless.
[Lat., Leniter ex merito quidquid patiare ferendum est,
Quae venit indigne poena dolenda venit.]

Suffering is the ancient law of love; there is not quest without pain; there is no lover who is not read more

Suffering is the ancient law of love; there is not quest without pain; there is no lover who is not also a martyr.

To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering, one must not love. But then, one suffers from not loving. Therefore, read more

To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering, one must not love. But then, one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be happy, one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness.

Have patience and endure; this unhappiness will one day be
beneficial.
[Lat., Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi read more

Have patience and endure; this unhappiness will one day be
beneficial.
[Lat., Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim.]

The injuries we do and those we suffer are seldom weighed in the same scales.

The injuries we do and those we suffer are seldom weighed in the same scales.

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so read more

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!