Much of your pain is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
The moment an ill can be patiently handled, it is disarmed of its poison, though not of its pain.
Being ill like this combines shock - this time I will die - with a pain and agony that are unfamiliar, that wrench me out of myself.
Suffering is a kind of ecstasy in a way. Having pain all the time makes me terribly, terribly grateful for every moment I've got.
My illness is excruciating and difficult to cope with. It takes over your entire life and causes more suffering than I can describe.
Medicine is the restoration of discordant elements; sickness is the discord of the elements infused into the living body.
I can take more pain than anyone.
Pain has its own noble joy, when it starts a strong consciousness of life, from a stagnant one.
The disease is painless; it's the cure that hurts.
Illness is the doctor to whom we pay most heed; to kindness, to knowledge, we make promise only; pain we obey.
Hush! Check those words. Do not cure ill with ill and make your pain still heavier than it is.