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309 quotes
Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it.
Every scar tells a story. Some stories are best kept to yourself.
The past is a phantom limb. It aches, but it's no longer there. You have to learn to live without it.
Guilt is a heavy chain, forged in the fires of what could have been.
We are all, in the end, just collections of our scars and the stories they tell.
The wound is the place where the Light enters you. Let it guide you, not define you.
To be blind is not miserable; not to be able to bear blindness, that is miserable.
Sometimes the only way out is through. Through the darkness, through the fear, through the pain.
Don't turn away. Keep your gaze on the bandaged place. That's where the light enters you.
Regret is a heavy burden, but forgiveness is the key that unlocks its chains.
Regret is a ghost that haunts the corridors of our past, forever whispering 'what if'.
What hurts you, blesses you. Darkness is your candle.
Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened.
The wound is the place where the Light enters you. Don't run from the hurt, let it illuminate.
The wound is the place where the Light enters you. Let it illuminate your path forward.
The past is a phantom limb, always aching, always reminding you of what is lost.
The past is a phantom, forever haunting the halls of memory.
The heart asks first for joy, then settles for mere absence of pain.
The most chilling echoes are not those heard, but those felt within the soul.
Grief is a garden, overgrown, where memories bloom and wounds are sown.
Sometimes, the most beautiful things are born from the ugliest silences.
To write is to bleed ink, to carve your soul into the page, hoping someone, someday, will understand the shape of your wounds.
Grief is a relentless tide, washing away the shores of what we once knew.
To write is to bleed onto the page, hoping someone will find solace in your wounds.
The tapestry of life is woven with threads of joy and sorrow, light and shadow. Embrace it all.
The only way out is through. A painful, beautiful pilgrimage.
The heart, a shadowed clock, ticks with a rhythm only sorrow understands.
Grief is but the shadow of love's light. The deeper the shadow, the brighter the light.
Grief is a phantom limb; forever present, forever reminding us of what is lost.
To write is to carve a wound in the silence, hoping for an echo of understanding.
I am a mosaic of shattered pieces, trying to arrange myself into something whole.
Regret is a ghost we invite to tea, who stays far longer than politeness allows.
Your pain is not a burden, but a chisel shaping you into something magnificent.
Despair is a slow poison, seeping into the very marrow of existence, until only darkness remains.
The human heart, a fragile vessel, easily shattered by the storms of fate.
Sometimes, the most profound silence is the scream you can't release.
The human heart is a cage, and sometimes the only way to escape is to break it open.
The heart is a fragile thing; handle with caution, or prepare for the shards.
To truly live is to embrace the joy and the sorrow, for both shape who we become.
Repression is a double-edged sword; it protects us from pain, but also from growth.
The price of repression is not peace, but a festering wound disguised as tranquility.
Our wounds are not scars to be hidden, but maps guiding us toward greater empathy and understanding.